


Heaven on Their Minds, Arc 2

by shadowsong26



Series: Heaven on Their Minds [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Gen, Sequel, Vague Sam/OMC pre-slash, season 6 fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-02-24 10:29:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 22,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2578319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsong26/pseuds/shadowsong26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been eighteen months since Lucifer and Michael were trapped in the Cage, and Sam now has his soul back at last, but things aren't going as smoothly as hoped. With the war between Raphael and Castiel heating up, Gabriel scrambling to keep his old lies from coming back to haunt him, Judas AWOL, and whispers about Purgatory floating around, it isn't going to be easy to keep things from totally falling apart at the seams. Again.<br/>Then, one day, Dean gets a call from Jo about an old friend wandering back into their lives...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 5: The Things You Did, Chapter 1: On the Road

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I'm going to call, for lack of a better term, an In Spite of a Nail AU, breaking off at _Abandon All Hope_. Basically, the major arc is largely the same, but several details change. This arc covers events during the second half of Season 6.

**_Part 5: The Things You Did_**

**Chapter 1**

_On the Road_

Dr. Visyak had come through for them--Dean was halfway back from San Francisco with the dragon sword, updating Sam on everything she'd told him. He still couldn't quite believe they were dealing with actual _dragons,_  but, hey, objectively speaking, they'd probably dealt with weirder things over the years.

"So, yeah, I'll be back in Portland in like six hours," he finished. "She said the sword would work, but..."

"But what?" Sam asked.

Dean considered the broken blade, wrapped up in his jacket and hidden in the trunk with the rest of their weapons. _Probably not a story I should tell while I'm driving._  "Uh...you know, I'll just show you when I get there," he answered. "Any luck on lairs?"

"Maybe. I'm gonna try getting in touch with Bobby, see if he has any ideas," he said. "Hey, is everything okay with him?"

_Shit._  "What do you mean?"

"Just...I don't know. A lot of little things seem weird. Did something big happen while I was--"

"Nah," Dean cut him off, with forced cheer. "He's just cranky, that's all. Same as always."

"Dean--"

"Gotta go!" He hung up and pressed the phone to his forehead. Bobby was right, this wasn't going to be a very easy secret to keep.

Not that he had much of a _choice,_  given what Death had said. Still, he wasn't looking forward to juggling this and watching everything he said for the rest of forever. Maybe it'd get easier once they got further away from the actual stuff they couldn't talk about. And once Bobby made peace or whatever with the way the soulless version of Sam had come after him with a freaking axe.

Yeah. The rest of this year was gonna be _so much fun._

The phone rang, loud and unexpected, cutting into his morose internal monologue.

"Shit!" Dean jumped and almost dropped his phone under the clutch. " _Shit!_ " It was probably Sam, calling back, wanting more answers. He debated not picking up, but it might be something actually important, about the case.

"Dammit." He accepted the call, putting the phone on speaker. "Sam?"

"Uh...no?" a pleasantly familiar female voice answered

Definitely not Sam. For starters, Sam wasn't _actually_  a girl, just acted kind of like one sometimes. He blinked. "Hey, Jo. Sorry, thought he was calling me back."

"Makes sense," she said. "How's he doing? Mom talked to Bobby yesterday, he told us about..."

"Good," Dean said. "He's doing good. What about you?"

"We're good, too," she said. "We just finished mopping up a vampire nest. Also, Mom said to tell you you should actually stay in touch, now you're back in."

"Heh. Yeah, sorry, it's just been..." He trailed off, not sure exactly how to sum up everything about the Campbells, and Crowley, and...

"Yeah." She sighed.

"So...what's up? I mean, not that it's not great to hear from you, but why'd you call now?"

"Right! So, um, I thought I'd call, because Mom said...well, I mean, you're the one with all the upstairs contacts..."

"What's going on?" he asked, immediately alarmed. If Jo and Ellen needed an angel...

"No, nothing serious. I mean, we're both okay, but this thing sort of came up, so...anyway, do you know how to get in touch with Gabriel?"

"With...wait, _Gabriel?_ "

"Yeah."

"Why him, specifically?" Dean asked. Well, maybe that wasn't quite fair. The Archangel _had_  been helpful. Eventually. Even though it had been like dragging a freight train with their teeth to get him to come on board. And, come to think of it, he hadn't heard anything about Gabriel in the six months since he'd gotten back in the game. Maybe helping them out had been just a one-time thing. They hadn't exactly gotten along before things got desperate, after all. "I mean, yeah, he's good to have in your corner once you actually get him to do crap, but he _never_  wants to and he has the attention span of a fruit fly. Or a two-year-old. On _speed._ "

"Well, _that_  was rude."

Dean jerked and almost swerved into another car.

"Poofing rule, Gabriel," he snapped, glaring at the Archangel, who had just materialized in his passenger seat.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "You were insulting me. All bets are off."

"Yeah, well, all of it was true," Dean muttered.

He considered that for a minute. "...point. What do you need?"

"What?"

"Well, you called me. And insulted me. You haven't done that for _ages._  You should more often, I get lonely."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, obviously you need something from me, so out with it, Winchester."

Dean looked from Gabriel to the phone and back again, then sighed and passed it over.

Gabriel blinked, and took the phone off speaker. "Hello?" He listened for a minute, sitting up straighter and, for once, looking utterly serious. "Yeah? Okay, where, exactly? Okay." He disappeared, with a much louder rustling noise than he usually made.

And he still had Dean's phone.

" _Dammit,_  Gabriel," Dean muttered, and pulled his primary backup out of the glove compartment in case anyone else needed to reach him.

Next time he got to a traffic light, he shot Sam a quick text--"if you need me, call this number instead, long story"--then tossed the phone aside and put music on to power him through the rest of the drive to Portland.


	2. Part 5, Chapter 2: Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Two Hours Earlier

**Chapter 2**  
 _Milwaukee, Wisconsin_  
 _Two Hours Earlier_

 

The vampire didn't seem to notice her.

Jo smiled to herself, shadowing him towards an alley. He was the last member of his nest left alive. Once she took care of him, she and Mom could leave Milwaukee, move on to the next job. Or maybe just take a couple to do something relaxing. Which, as much as Jo loved hunting, was still nice, at least once in a while. And they hadn't in almost six months.

She shifted her coat for easier access to her machete. He just needed to go a little teeny bit farther down the--

 _Crap._  Homeless guy, who seemed totally oblivious at the moment, but once the vamp's head rolled, he wouldn't be. Witnesses made everything harder.

The vampire had noticed him, too. His reaction, however, was different from Jo's--he hauled the guy up by the collar. Homeless Dude didn't resist at all (maybe he was drunk?) as the vampire pushed his head to the side and went for his throat.

 _Dammit._  Jo wasn't about to let a civilian get his throat ripped out, even if abandoning her sneak attack made the tail end of this hunt riskier.

"Hey!" she yelled, hoping to draw the vamp's attention away.

He turned, seeming strangely sluggish and confused. Beside him, Drunk Homeless Dude slumped bonelessly to the ground, one hand drifting up to press the side of his neck.

 _Maybe not as drunk as I thought..._  He was still entirely too chill about the whole getting-his-throat-ripped-out-while-a-hot-blonde-with-a-machete-watched thing, though. _What the hell is_  up _here?_

The vampire was coming at her now, and something was off _there_ , too. He was moving _way_  too slow, off-kilter, almost like he was drunk, and his eyes were glazed and shining. This wasn't the same kind of paralytic effect dead man's blood had, but it was sure as hell _something._  And Jo had never seen anything like it before.

"What the...?"

He dropped to his knees and vomited. Jo shook off her confusion and took the two steps she needed to close the distance between them. She almost felt bad, with how freaking easy ending him was.

Jo kicked the head out of the way and sidestepped the pool of blood. She wanted to check on the vic before packing the vamp's corpse into her trunk and disposing of it. The body, at least, was for sure not going anywhere.

Though, to be fair, that seemed pretty unlikely for Drunk Homeless Dude, too. He was really out of it and someone should make sure he didn't die. She hadn't seen how bad he was bleeding, but at the very least she could give him a ride to the ER if he needed one. Plus, above and beyond the mostly altruistic reasons, whatever had made the vampire go all wonky like that was probably in this guy's blood. If she could figure out what it was...

"Hey, you okay?" she asked, crouching next to him.

He didn't answer. _Great._  He might have passed out. Hospital it was, then, and no luck figuring out how he drugged the vampire.

Gingerly, she reached for his hand, intending to pull it away and see how bad the bleeding was.

That was when she saw the bruise.

It was a vivid, angry reddish-purple, running up past his hand to tuck behind his ear.

It was a hanging scar.

And his blood had made the vampire sick.

Jo had a strong suspicion she knew exactly who might fit both criteria.

She shifted her hand a little, reaching for his chin instead, turning him to face her.

Yeah. Even dirty and unkempt, with a rough, scraggly, week-old beard, this was not a face that Jo would ever forget.

"Judas?"

He blinked hazily at her. "Jo...?"

"Yeah, it's me." She smiled at him. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?" _How the hell did a vampire get the better of you like that?_ Judas was, in her experience, pretty freaking badass, after all.

"I..." He shook his head to clear it, then hissed and pressed his hand a little tighter against his neck. "I've been...around. Just travelling, I suppose. What about you? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, of course. So...you've been wandering alone, this whole time?" As far as she knew, no one had heard from Judas since Sam's death. Or, at least, she and her mom hadn't, and Bobby probably would have said something if he had.

Although, given that he hadn't told _Dean_  when Sam came back...

Judas nodded. "Mostly, yes. I stayed with a friend for a couple weeks, then I just..."

That didn't sound good.

"Here, let me help you up," Jo said, shifting to offer him her hand. Pushing at him would do the opposite of good, at least any way she could think of. Mom was better at this sort of thing. She'd be able to get to the bottom of...whatever this was. "I'll take you back with me. Mom can clean you up."

He flushed and shook his head. "That's really not necessary. I'll be all right." He tried to smile.

"Come on, please?" she asked, then tried another tactic. "Mom'll kill me when she finds out I ran into you and didn't give her a chance to see you."

Judas hesitated, then finally nodded. "All right. I'll come say hello."

 _Hah, knew that would work._  She grinned and pulled him to his feet. "My car's about a block away, you think you can make it?"

"Of course." He eyed the dead vampire. "Do you need help with...?"

"Nah," Jo said. "I got him. Hey, by the way, he was sort of...shaky. Was that you? I mean, did you do something to him?"

"Not on purpose," he said, sounding a little surprised. As if he hadn't even noticed. He really _had_  been out of it. "But it might have been because I'm not fully human. I doubt vampires are capable of metabolizing angelic blood."

Jo nodded. About what she'd guessed, once she'd ID'd Judas. "Makes sense," she said. She helped him over to her car and stashed him in the passenger seat. "Don't go anywhere, okay? I meant it, about Mom killing me. I'm just gonna get Lestat back there into the trunk."

"I'll stay," he promised, with a faint smile, then leaned back against the seat, eyes closed, with his now-bloody hand still pressed against his neck.


	3. Part 5, Chapter 3: Milwaukee, Wisconsin

**Chapter 3**

_Milwaukee, Wisconsin_

 

 

Ellen let out a long sigh of relief when she heard Jo's key in the lock. _About damn time._  She'd expected her daughter back a half hour ago, and a single straggler from a vampire nest--they'd taken out the maker yesterday--shouldn't have given her too much trouble. Five more minutes and she would have gone looking.

"Jo? Everything go okay?" She didn't look hurt, at least, but delays were _never_  good. _Shouldn't have let you take it out by yourself. Dammit._

"Yeah, Mom," she said. "Sorry I'm late, but, um...guess who I ran into?"

Sure enough, Jo wasn't alone. She was followed by a short, skinny vagrant with a makeshift bandage that looked like it was torn from Jo's shirt on his throat.

For a moment, Ellen was a little bit surprised, and somewhat annoyed. Jo might be reckless as all get out, but she wasn't stupid. Or, at least, not stupid enough to assume humans couldn't be dangerous and bring a total stranger home.

Then he looked up and, two obviously rough years aside, she sure as hell recognized those sad, dark eyes. "Judas," she said, and smiled. "Hey. It's good to see you again." _Even if you look like hammered crap._

He smiled back faintly. "Hello, Ellen."

"What have you been doing with yourself lately?"

Judas considered for a moment, then sidestepped the question with a faint smile. "Well, most recently, I was a helpful distraction." He rested a hand lightly against his bandage.

Ellen nodded, and let him dodge for the moment. "Why don't you go wash up a bit, and then I can take a look at that for you?" She wasn't done with him, but she wanted at least the bare facts from her daughter first.

"All right," he said. "Thank you." He disappeared into the bathroom.

Ellen turned to her daughter once she heard water running. "What the hell happened?" she asked.

"Vamp jumped him before I could corner it somewhere without witnesses," Jo explained.

Ellen frowned. _How in the hell...?_

"Yeah, I know," she said. "He just...he didn't fight back at all, just let the thing bite him."

"Damn," she breathed. "What about before that? He say anything?"

"Not specific." Jo shrugged. "He said he stayed with a friend for a few weeks, then started to drift."

Judas rejoined them before Ellen could press for further details, looking at least a little more like himself, if still ragged and exhausted. "Thank you, for inviting me in," he said.

"Don't mention it," Ellen said. "Like I told you, you need anything, all you gotta do is ask." She paused for a second, hoping he'd take the hint and open up. When he didn't, she smiled again and said, "Sit down, let me take a look at your neck."

He nodded and obediently curled up in the motel room chair while Ellen retrieved the basic first aid kit she always kept on her. She had a more comprehensive one in the trunk with the weapons, but hopefully she wouldn't need it.

"I'm gonna go deal with disposal," Jo said. "Don't leave before I get back, please, Judas?"

"I won't," he promised.

Over his head, Ellen nodded at her daughter--she'd make sure he stayed. She didn't like the idea of Judas off on his own, not when his state of mind was such that he failed to notice or resist a vampire coming for him.

"Hold still, okay?" she said. "This'll probably sting."

He nodded, and she carefully peeled the improvised bandage off his neck. The bite marks cut messily across his old scar, and were still weeping blood. Still, so far as vampire attacks went, this was far from the worst she'd seen. _Huh. Wonder why he didn't take care of this himself..._

As if he'd read her mind--which she was pretty sure he couldn't literally do, but, then again, it was a fairly obvious question--he said, "Thank you, for this. Healing takes a great deal of energy and concentration for me. I usually don't bother for myself if it's minor, and if it's serious enough to be worth it, it's difficult to focus."

Ellen nodded. "Don't mention it."

He flinched a little when she cleaned the wound--which might not actually have been necessary; Ellen had no real idea if infection was something nephilim needed to worry about. Come to think of it, she had very little idea about _anything_  that might or might not be a real danger for them.

Other than, apparently, not vampires.

"So," she said, as she pulled out a sterile gauze pad to replace the improvized cloth one, "Jo told me you were staying with a friend for a bit?"

"Yes," he said. "For a couple weeks, right after. She helped me...process things."

Ellen arched an eyebrow. "Is she a special friend?" Judas hadn't mentioned anyone, but they hadn't really discussed his modern-day life when they'd met before. Of course, on reflection, his friend was probably the angry cousin Bobby had told her about, but Ellen was fairly sure she wasn't supposed to know about her. Judas was twitchy enough without knowing the girl wasn't as secret as he thought.

He flushed. "No, she's..." He sighed. "She's my cousin. She does her best to blend in, for the most part. Avoid the attention of anyone with power."

"Aha. Smart kid, sounds like." So, he actually trusted her with his cousin, when he wasn't even cornered to the point where he _had_  to out her. That was a hell of a thing, from a person who'd been burned like him before. Ellen finished taping the gauze in place. "And after you left her?"

He shrugged, looking away and absently reaching up to touch his neck, first running his fingers along the gauze, then shifting over and slowly tracing his scar.

She gently reached over and caught his hand. "Judas?" Keeping him focused kept him from falling apart further, which was the last thing she wanted. She owed him, and he trusted her. It was the least she could do. "You still with me?"

"Right, sorry." He sighed, squeezed her hand briefly in acknowledgement and then pulled back. "After I left Jane, I just wandered."

"Without checking in anywhere?"

He shrugged again.

 _Who the hell thought it was a good idea to leave him on his own? No wonder he's slipped so far._  "What about Gabriel? Hasn't he been looking in on you?"

Judas coughed awkwardly. "Abba is...busy."

Ellen eyed him. "Why do I get the feeling that ain't the answer he'd give me if I asked?"

He shifted uneasily and didn't answer.

"Why are you avoiding him?"

"I'm not exactly..." He trailed off.

She just stared at him.

"Most--or at least many--of our old pagan friends want his head," Judas said quietly, after a moment's thought. "And a few of them might even succeed in _taking_  if, if they get close enough, and he's distracted enough. Plus, he's been forced to reconnect with Heaven, which is in chaos. And some of his brothers and sisters...there's resentment, for the way he left, for the way he chose another family, for way he came back. On all sides. I _will not_  risk him."

"So you've been ignoring him instead."

"He needs to look to his own safety right now, not worry about me."

Ellen had the sudden overpowering urge to introduce her head to a brick wall. Several times. "That is, I think, the single _stupidest_  thing I've heard in a long time."

Judas gave her a wounded look. "Were you listening at _all?_  I'm trying to protect him. The deeper underground I am--"

"Judas. Honey. Listen to me." She looked him right in the eye. "If he thinks you're in trouble, he's going to worry. And if he doesn't know where you are, _he's gonna think you're in trouble._  I get keeping your head down, especially if everyone's gunning for him and you think they'll use you against him, but you have _got_  to let him know how you're doing. Or he'll do something half-cocked and stupid and you _know_  how that's gonna end."

Judas flushed and broke her gaze. "I don't want to bring trouble down on him. And it's not only...I just...he hates it when I..." He trailed off again.

She sighed. _You don't want him to see you like this._  "I get that, Judas. I do. But trust me, this is _not_  the best way to keep him safe and focused." She paused, considering for a minute. "How is it that he hasn't managed to find you, anyway? Thought angels could track down just about anyone."

"Normally, he could," he said. "But I'm still warded. I think Abba forgot to scrub my ribs after he and Castiel got me out of that tree." He shivered. "And I haven't been dreaming, so he can't find me..."

It was subtle enough that, if she hadn't been looking at him, talking to him, Ellen might not have even noticed the change.

Judas went blank, his pupils dilating alarmingly. He let out a very faint whimper, a bead of sweat starting near his hairline and slowly trailing down, but was otherwise still, and barely breathing.

It lasted for less than a second, though he still looked dazed and not entirely aware of his surroundings when it passed.

"Judas?" Ellen asked, grabbing for his hands again. They were cold and limp, and shaking, hard. "Judas, honey, are you okay? You with me?"

He blinked a few times, then gripped her hands, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "Y-yes. I'm sorry."

"What the hell _was_  that?" she asked.

Before he could answer, Jo's key clicked in the lock again and she joined them. "...what happened? Everyone okay?"

"I'm fine," Judas said. "Just a little..."

"He had a seizure, I think," she said. She let go of his hand and lifted one of his eyelids, trying to check his pupil. "Was that from the vampire, or...?"

"It wasn't a seizure." He pushed her hand aside and looked away. "It was an echo."

"A what?" Jo asked.

"Backlash," he clarified woodenly, still not looking at either of them. "From banishing my uncles."

"What...what happened? I didn't...Judas, are you _sure_  you're okay?" Jo asked.

And wasn't that the question of the day. _That sure as hell explains a lot. What the hell was your daddy_ thinking, _letting himself lose track of you like that?_  "Sure as hell looked like a seizure," she said.

"It wasn't. Or, not exactly." He shivered and drew his knees up to his chest. "It's more like...I dropped a pair of boulders into a pool, and the ripples keep hitting me, and I'm sunk to my knees in the mud and I can't get out of the way. They're slower and weaker as time goes by, but..."

"What exactly are they?"

"Waves of psychic pain," he said, then shook his head. "I'm down to about two every three or four hours now, and the gaps between them are getting longer all the time. They were...for the first few weeks, they were all but constant. That's why I stayed with Jane as long as I did. Once I had some breathing room, we figured she was safer without me there, drawing attention."

"Does your dad know this is going on?" Jo asked.

Judas flinched, and carefully avoided looking at Ellen. "He...knows what the side effects are, yes..."

"And you've _still_  left him hanging?" Ellen asked.

His silence was answer enough.

If his neck wasn't still half-bleeding, and if he wasn't half a stitch away from completely falling apart at the seams, she might have slapped him. Instead, she said, "Jo, go call Dean. See if he knows how to reach Gabriel."

Judas looked up, horrified. "Ellen, that's really not--"

"And, while you're at it, remind him that he has our numbers, and he doesn't have an excuse not to call anymore," she continued, ignoring him.

"Yes, Mom," Jo said, then fled to make the call.

Before Judas could get any bright ideas about running away, Ellen turned back to him. "I've got some painkillers in my trunk. I don't know how much they'll help you, but..." He said he hadn't been dreaming, which probably meant he was sleeping in something like fifteen-minute bursts between echoes. If he was sleeping at all--angels didn't, so nephilim probably didn't need it as much as humans did. But as drained as he looked, he still needed _some._  And the painkillers might at least knock him out for a bit, if she gave him enough. It wouldn't take her long to replace them.

He blinked, then nodded a little. "All right. Thank you."

"Don't go anywhere," she said.

He nodded again, and closed his eyes.

She hesitated for a second--maybe she should just wait until Gabriel got here. But, on the other hand, she didn't think he could get anywhere if he tried--she'd be right outside the door, and the only window she thought he could fit through was on the same side of the motel. Besides, she'd be gone a minute, tops.

"I'll be right back," she promised, then went outside, locking the door behind her.


	4. Part 5, Chapter 4: Milwaukee, Wisconsin

**Chapter 4**

_Milwaukee, Wisconsin_

 

 

Gabriel landed next to a two-bit motel just outside of Milwaukee. Not the kind of place _he'd_  choose to hole up for a week or more, but it was about what he'd expected.

And if his son was actually there, actually _safe_  there, well. It didn't need to be a five-star high rise to be awesome.

Jo--the blonde hunter girl Judas had blown himself up to save--was leaning against a beat-up pickup truck in the parking lot, still on the phone. She was the one who'd finally _found_  Judas again for him, who'd called Dean looking for him. He owed her, more than a little. He'd have to keep that in mind for later. "Hi," he said.

She jumped, and put the phone away. "Hi. So, uh, I guess you're Gabriel?"

"Yep."

An older woman--Jo's mother, Ellen--came out of one of the rooms and blinked when she saw him. "That was fast."

"I was motivated," he said. "He's inside?" _Not sure I like that you left him_  alone, _because he's sure as hell stupid enough to bolt if he thinks he can. Or he might be, anyway. I have no freaking clue where his head's at right now._  One of the many, _many_  problems with Judas dropping off the map while he was echoing all over the place. The kid was still warded, too, so it would be a bitch to notice him leaving if he tried.

"Yeah," she said.

He nodded. "Give us a minute, okay?"

"Sure."

He flew into the room and--oh, good, Judas was still there. Gabriel relaxed marginally. "So."

"So," Judas replied.

First things first. Kid was bleeding, that needed to be fixed--it only took a second, barely brushing his fingers and his Grace against the wound--vampire bite. Could've been worse. "Are you okay?"

"I'm getting by."

"Good." He sat down on the edge of the bed, and switched to Aramaic. Probably Ellen and Jo were a little more polite than Sam and wouldn't _actively_  eavesdrop, but best to keep this as private as possible.

The kid wouldn't look at him, just stared down at his hands, and...he looked closed-off, sad, exhausted, and generally just...not good. Very not good. Gabriel's heart hurt more than a little at the sight. Taking his kid and hiding him somewhere no one would ever find him was starting to look like a pretty damn good idea. At least until he wasn't so...not good.

He could do it, too. He _could_  just drag his kid off to one of his safehouses instead, or dump him in a nice safe little pocket dimension, even if it didn't look like anyone had actually tried for him. But that would piss him off, and, yeah, okay, there weren't many of his safehouses that were _totally_  unknown, and the ones that were weren't really set up for long-term use and Judas had broken out of pocket dimensions before.

And then they'd end up right where they'd started, fighting over someone doing something stupid to try to keep someone safe. Because, sure, he didn't know _exactly_  where Judas' head was at right now, but he had a pretty damn good idea of why he'd gone quiet.

At least no one got freaking stabbed this time. That was a plus.

Finally, he sighed and just started with the obvious. "What the hell, Judas."

Judas looked away. "I figured you needed...space. We both did."

Well, okay, fine. That was true. He _had_  sort of needed...it had taken him six months to finally make his way back home, and after he'd escaped from  _that_  impending disaster, he'd gone looking for Judas. And found nothing.

And that was _months_  ago.

"I haven't needed space for like a _year._  And you've been ignoring me."

He shrugged one shoulder. "It's not that...I just...I figured it would be safer for you if I stayed underground."

"Yeah, sure," he said. "But that doesn't mean _avoiding_  me. Seriously, Judas, I _can_  protect you. You need to let me."

"I...Abba, if I _let_  you, it leaves a trail right back to you for all the people who want you--"

"Oh, for the love of--" There were times when Gabriel wanted to strangle the kid. He really did. "It's not on you to keep me safe, kiddo, okay?" And given the _last_  time Judas had tried... "No one's caught me yet, and no one _will._  I'm pretty damn good at this, remember? Staying hidden and safe is what I _do._  Let me protect you."

But he shook his head. "You knew I was alive."

"Only because I keep checking where I have your coins hidden. And _alive_  isn't freaking good enough. Not right now. I need you to be _safe._  We talked about that, remember?" And now Judas was, mentally speaking, torn wide open, wounded and raw and vulnerable as _hell,_  and there was no freaking way Gabriel could let him stay completely off the grid. Because even if keeping a low profile _was_  probably safer, for both of them--and, okay, fine, it was, even more than it had been before; that was why he'd spent most of the past eighteen months bouncing all over the world instead of...well, that wasn't really the point. Besides, there was keeping a low profile, and then there was _dropping off the freaking map,_  where if someone _did_  catch up with Judas, there would be no warning, and no way to save him. And even if he couldn't _die..._

Gabriel had made a lot of enemies lately. Or, at least, a lot of people he used to call his friends were anything but these days. And a lot of them knew about Judas. And a lot of them were _creative._

Judas only shook his head again. "We did. But do you really think it's any easier for contemplate losing _you,_  Abba? For two thousand _years,_  you've kept me--" He took a deep breath. "I _can't_  lose you, all right?"

Shit. Fine. Okay. But _still..._  Gabriel looked down at his hands, sullenly kicking at the carpet. "The deal was, when we split up after Prague, we live our own lives the way we want, but we stay in touch. At least once a _week,_  we stay in touch. That doesn't change. Especially not now."

"I haven't been sleeping long enough to dream." By the way he said it, faint and to one side, the kid _had_  to know how bad an excuse that was.

"I know. But that doesn't stop you from _picking up the damn phone_  when I call, okay? Or at least pray once in a while, for crying out loud. I'm not--" He sighed. "Look, I need to know--you can't just freaking disappear on me, kid, okay? Don't _do_  that."

He took a deep breath, and nodded once. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, okay." He flopped back and stared at the ceiling. "I went to see Jane. She's worried about you, too."

Judas sighed faintly. "I get it, Abba. I screwed up. Big time."

"You're damn right you did." And, okay, that probably wasn't fair. But _dammit,_  Judas _knew_  that knowing he was safe was part of how Gabriel coped with everything else he'd lost. He _knew_  better.

"I'm sorry."

"Good."

For a long moment, the silence stretched between them, then Gabriel sat up again. "I want you to stay with Ellen and Jo for a couple days, okay?"

Judas shook his head. "It's better if I keep moving."

"Yeah, sure. But you can take a couple days. And I'll put wards up--on you, on them, on everything I can think of. You'll be safe here." _And you look like crap, and you need a haven for a while._  "It's this, or I build a pocket dimension safehouse for you and you have to figure out how to unravel it again."

He made a face. "All right. Fine. I'll stay. Assuming they agree."

"I'll make sure they do."

"Abba--"

"Oh, shut up. Not like that." He rolled his eyes. "Give me _some_  credit. I know how to ask for a favor."

Judas nodded. "All right."

Gabriel popped out of the room, to find Ellen and Jo still out by their car, talking quietly. "Hey again. Thanks for calling me."

"No problem," Ellen said.

"Can he stay with you for a bit? I'll ward him--and you guys, too--so no one will bother you. And it'll probably be just for a few days."

"Of course," she replied. "I was gonna offer, anyway."

Smart woman. Clearly, she had about as positive of an opinion of Judas wandering by himself as Gabriel died. He liked her already.

"Awesome. Take a breath, this is gonna hurt." He reached out a hand to each of them and carved all the usual angelic protections--plus a few he'd picked up as Loki, plus a few of his own invention--into their ribs. "There. You're pretty much invisible now, at least to everything that might be hunting him."

Ellen nodded, resting a hand on her side. "Thanks."

"No problem." He smiled a little at her. "I owe you one." He glanced over at Jo. "Both of you. I'll go double-check his wards, then get out of your hair."

"No problem," Ellen said. "And I'll make sure he calls."

"I knew I liked you," he said, then popped back in the hotel room. "Judas?"

"Yeah?"

"I gotta get going, okay?" None of his wide-range alarms had gone off yet, so it looked like people were still chasing his projections halfway across the world. But that wouldn't last forever. Best not to push his luck. " _Call me._  I'll drop a phone on you on my way out."

Judas nodded. "I will."

"Good." Gabriel eyed him. "You sure you're doing okay?"

He smiled a little. "You're all right. And I'm coping. That's enough for now."

"All right, good. See you around, kiddo."

"Yeah."

With that, Gabriel took off, to lay another false trail as far from Jo and Ellen and Judas as he could get it--wards could only do so much, after all.

Things were still one hell of a mess. But Judas was right--they were both intact, they were both coping. For now, it would have to do.


	5. Part 5, Chapter 5: On the Road

**Chapter 5**   
_On the Road_

 

When Sam and Dean stopped for gas, a little over two thirds of the way back to Sioux Falls, Gabriel appeared in the backseat.

"...well, at least you waited 'til we stopped this time," Dean said.

"Oh, stop whining," Gabriel replied. "Here." He tossed Dean his phone.

Dean caught it. "Huh. Wasn't expecting to get that back." Not that he was actually planning on keeping it. Cell phones were too easy to track if you knew what you were doing, and that was before Gabriel had probably improved it for the purpose. And while the Archangel _was_  their ally, Dean didn't want to make it any easier for him to screw with them the next time he got bored.

"Sorry, I sort of forgot I was holding it when I took off."

"You forgot?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I kinda had bigger things on my mind at the moment, sue me." He glanced over at Sam, and paused, studying him for a moment with one eybrow quirked oddly. "Huh."

Dean's heart sank, trying to decide how to interrupt before Gabriel spilled _everything,_  without making things worse and prompting more and more questions. Because, hell, he could brush off _Sam's_  questions without too much trouble, but Gabriel...

"Huh, what?" Sam asked, before Dean could get the interruption out.

"Just...huh. You're...not exactly as expected right now," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, y'know. I hear things. Still keep an ear to the ground as much as I can. And--"

"So, what did Jo want that freaked you out, anyway?" Dean interrupted, before Gabriel could tell Sam anything potentially Wall-breaking. _Thank God he likes to run his freaking mouth for an hour before he gets to the point._

The Archangel stared at him for a minute, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Something you wanna share with the class, bucko?"

"Nope! Nothing to share. What did Jo want?"

Sam sighed, but thankfully didn't push.

Gabriel glanced over at the taller Winchester, and, for a moment, Dean thought he was going to do the pushing and expose him.

Instead, the Archangel dropped the subject. At least for the moment. Dean was pretty damn sure he'd get right back to it if he didn't steer the conversation _carefully_  from here on out. But all he did was actually answer the question. "She found Judas."

Dean blinked. Well, _that_  was new. Although, it made sense--not much would make Gabriel take off like that, but Judas was definitely on the short list. "You didn't know where he was?"

Gabriel made a face. "Dumbass took himself off the grid and I'd left him warded. But he's promised me he'll check in from now on. I left him with Ellen, she should sit on him for a few days." Clearly, he didn't want to discuss his son further, because he promptly changed the subject--and actually to something safe. "What about you two? What's the crisis this week? I got a few minutes to spare."

Well, that might explain it--the Sam thing would be a _much_  bigger conversation than they could wrap up in a minute or two.

Sam glanced at Dean, then answered, "Well, we just ran into dragons. Our expert said--"

"There haven't been any active dragons in ages," Gabriel finished for him. " _Awesome._ "

"Not...really," Sam said.

The Archangel waved a hand dismissively. "So, anyway. Dragons. Any idea why?"

He shook his head. "No. Not yet, anyway. We did manage to get a--"

"Stop a second," Gabriel said, tensing. "Oh, _crap._  Not again. Sorry, boys, gotta run. Good talk, though."

"What--?" Dean asked, but before he could get the rest of the question out, he was gone.

"...that can't be good," Sam said, unnecessarily.

It may not have been, but it was also somewhat anticlimactic--whatever had sent Gabriel running either didn't turn up, or decided that the two of them weren't worth bothering.

Which was either awesome, or _really_  dangerous.

"Should we call him back?" Sam asked, after a moment of tense waiting.

"Not here," Dean said. "Soon as we get back somewhere less exposed, though, yeah. We can try, anyway."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, okay." He hesitated, then sighed. "Look, Dean..."

"What?" he asked, half-holding his breath, and prepping to lie about cutting Gabriel off when Sam inevitably asked.

Except he didn't. "Never mind. Let's just get that book back to Bobby. See what he makes of it."

He nodded, and the two of them got back into the car. Dean turned the music way up to cover any other questions, and hoped it would last 'til they got back to Sioux Falls.

And then he'd have to figure out another way to dodge the questions, and another, and another...

Yeah. He couldn't _wait_  'til they were past this enough that he didn't have to watch every freaking word that came out of his mouth.

Even if it would be a hell of a long time coming.


	6. Part 5, Chapter 6: Sioux Falls, South Dakota

**Chapter 6**

_Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

 

 

"What the hell does 'Mother of All' mean?" Dean asked

"I don't know." Bobby answered.

Well, _that_  was comforting. "So, to sum up--we got dragons trying to crack Purgatory and bring in a thing from there with what might actually be the world's most ominous name, and the only thing we got to help us deal with her is a book that we can't translate?"

Plus, Cas had let the cat out of the bag to Sam, and just because nothing had gone wrong there _yet..._

Yeah. So much for a couple easy weeks to ease back into things, now that they'd put Sam back together. Was that really too much to ask?

"Pretty much," he agreed. "I'll work on it, but like I said, it's obscure. And chances are, it's coded on top."

"Yeah." He sighed.

For a minute, the three of them sat there, no one saying anything. Then Sam frowned a little.

"Something up?" Dean asked, worried he might be dealing some sort of leaked Hell memory crap, now that he knew they were there to look for.

"I was just thinking. What about Judas?" he asked.

Bobby blinked. "What about him?"

"Could he help? I mean, not that you can't translate the whole thing eventually, but you said it would take a while. And he lived through the fourteenth century, and he's done all kind of work codebreaking. If it _is_  a code."

"Yeah, Sam's got a point," Dean said. "Faster we get through that thing, faster we can stop this Mother of All, or whatever else the dragons might try to drag up out of Purgatory."

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, sure. He could help, if I could reach him. Far as I know, no one's heard from him in ages, and when I tried the number he gave me, it wasn't working."

"When did you try calling him?"

"About six months ago," he said, then glanced over at Sam. "Figured I'd let him know you were back, now that we weren't keeping it secret anymore."

So, Sam had talked to Bobby before talking to him. Which made sense, since the last thing he'd done before Death had replaced his soul was come after the old man with a freaking axe.

At least however he'd brought it up--however he'd apologized, whatever they'd talked about--had managed to clear the air between them. Or maybe it was just that it wasn't secret anymore, but things were a _hell_  of a lot less tense than they'd been before he and Sam had gone off to Portland.

Sam looked away, but nodded. "Yeah, I guess that'd be a good time to try."

"Anyway, he didn't answer." Bobby shook his head. "His cousin didn't, either. I just got a message saying the number wasn't in service anymore."

That tracked without Gabriel had told them, about Judas going dark. On the other hand, the Weapon was back _on_  the grid now. "But that was then," Dean said. "Right now he's with Jo and Ellen."

"Really?" Bobby asked. "How do you know for sure?"

Dean shrugged. "Well, we know he was there yesterday, at least. That's what Gabriel said when we ran into him. And it's why he stole my phone."

Bobby clearly decided it was better not to ask. "I'll call Ellen, then, see if he's still around."

"He should be," Sam said. "Gabriel said he was going to camp out there for a few days."

He nodded, and picked up the phone and dialed. "Hey, Ellen, it's Bobby. ...yeah, we're good here. You guys doing okay? ...that's good to hear. I'm actually looking for Judas, the boys said he might be with you? ...a text I might need his help translating. ...yeah, great, thanks. I'll talk to you soon."

"Any luck?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. I didn't talk to him direct, but Ellen said she'd let him know and he'd probably head up here to help out," Bobby said, putting the phone back down on his desk. "Or at least he'll call if he can't for some reason, but she figured he'd be up for it."

"Good to know."

"It'll be good to see him again," Sam said.

"Yeah," Bobby agreed. "Gabriel tell you boys why Judas went quiet?"

Dean shook his head. "Seemed like he didn't want to talk about it much. Why, did Ellen say something?"

He shook his head.

"My guess, he was hiding from Raphael's mooks and went overboard," Dean said. "They can't be too happy with him right now."

"Makes sense," Sam said. "Plus, while we were talking, something spooked Gabriel--"

" _Gabriel_  got spooked?" Bobby said. "The hell? Why didn't you mention this sooner?"

"We kind of got distracted by the book," Dean said.

"Plus, figuring out...there's been a lot to process the last couple days," Sam said quietly. "Sorry."

"Right," he said. "So, what exactly sent a freaking Archangel running?"

"We don't know," Dean said. "It wasn't interested in us."

"And I tried calling him--praying, whatever," Sam said. "He wouldn't answer. My guess is, it's something personal."

"That don't mean we won't get dragged into it," Bobby pointed out.

"True," Sam said. "Maybe we can get Judas to tell us a little more when he shows up. If it _is_  personal, he probably knows, right? Then we can at least be ready for whatever happens."

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Ellen said they're in Milwaukee, so it'll take him a while to get here," Bobby said.

"Right." And once he got here, maybe they could get more answers. About the Mother, about Gabriel, about all the crap that seemed to be piling on _just_  when Sam got his soul back and things seemed to be getting back on track.

Well, that was their lives, wasn't it. One freaking disaster after another, and no breathing room at all. At least they had some kind of head's up this time. Depending on how much Judas knew--and was willing to share--and how quickly he and Bobby could get through the book together, it might even be enough for them to have an actual _plan._

It wasn't much, but it was something.

And maybe it was that, despite the potential catastrophe waiting in the wings, Dean was just still riding the high of Sam waking up mostly okay after the whole resouling thing, but, for the moment, it almost looked like it might even be enough.


	7. Part 5, Chapter 7: Sioux Falls, South Dakota

**Chapter 7**

_Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

 

 

Dean was up, grabbing another beer, when someone knocked softly on the door. Probably Judas--he was coming in from Milwaukee and the timing was right.

Sure enough, when he opened the door, the Weapon of God was standing there. He seemed tired, and he tensed a little. "Hello, Dean," he said quietly.

"Hey," Dean said. "C'mon in, I think Bobby's almost done making your copy."

"Oh," he said. "I, uh...I can come back later, then."

Dean blinked. "Uh, sure? If you want. You might as well come in, though."

That was a little worrying. Judas hadn't been that nervy around any of them once Cas had talked him into helping out. Something had obviously gone really bad for him in the last couple years. Maybe it even tied into whatever had spooked Gabriel--because whatever was bugging the Archangel had probably spilled over down to his son.

All that considered, especially if they wanted answers, Judas shouldn't wander off again. Besides, there was no real reason for him to. He would have phrased it differently if it was a possible safety issue, Dean was pretty sure.

Judas blinked, visibly surprised and confused. "I...all right...?"

Dean let him in and shut the door behind him. He hesitated. Maybe he should wait for Sam or Bobby before they started the questions. The two of them had been closer to Judas before, after all. On the other hand, he'd been the one there to let him in, and it would probably just get more uncomfortable if he didn't say anything. "Hey, you okay, man?" he asked, after a couple seconds. "You seem kinda..."

The Weapon flushed faintly. He'd managed to half-cross the room while Dean was asking, putting an unnecessary amount of distance between them. He was doing a weird sort of indirect half-watching thing, sideways and up at Dean, which wasn't at _all_  unsettling. "I..." He trailed off, clearly struggling with what to say. "The past year has...it hasn't been fun," he finally said.

So, Judas was being cagey with _everyone,_  not just Gabriel. That probably didn't indicate any serious problems at all.

"Hey," Sam said, coming in from the other room. "I thought I heard--hey, Judas, you okay?"

Dean turned, and Judas was no longer doing that creepy-half-watching thing. He was staring--actively, openly staring--at Sam, face gone grey with shock. "Judas?" he tried.

"You're--how--what--but...you're _alive?_ " he finally managed to get out.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Dude, maybe you should sit down or something, you look like you're about to pass out."

"I'm not going to--oh, _fuck._ " Judas grabbed onto the wall for support. For a split second, he stood there, unmoving, gripping almost tight enough to dent the freaking drywall. Then he slumped to the ground, his knees buckling.

_What the hell?_

Sam and Dean both moved to catch him, but Sam had longer legs and, because Judas was being weirder than normal, got there first. "Hey. Hey, hey, hey, it's okay, everyone's okay..."

Judas shook his head to clear it. "I-I'm sorry, that was...that was just an echo, don't worry about it. You're...you're really..." Tentatively, he reached up, resting one hand very lightly on the side of Sam's face, almost as if he didn't actually believe what he saw. As if the literal, physical reality of the kid catching him when he tried to pass out wasn't enough proof. "You're really alive," he whispered.

"I'm really alive," Sam confirmed, with a slightly bewildered little half-smile.

Dean shifted awkwardly, feeling oddly as if he was spying on something that was supposed to be private. He cleared his throat to interrupt. "So, uh," he said. "What do you mean by echo?"

He shook his head again. "It's nothing you need to worry about. It's over now." With Sam's help, he got to his feet.

"Yeah, except you almost passed out," Sam said. "You sure you're okay?"

"You don't need to worry," Judas insisted. "I just hadn't braced myself."

"Because you were surprised to see me?"

He nodded. "Mostly, yes."

"Wait," Dean said. "Didn't Ellen or Jo tell you? Or, hell, Gabriel?" Bobby had said he'd tried, back when Dean had finally been let in on the secret, but the old number had been down. But Ellen and Jo had been with him for more than a _day_. And that should have been the first damn thing Gabriel mentioned.

...okay, second. After yelling at him for dropping off the map.

Judas shook his head. "No, no one said anything. I suppose they must have all assumed one of the others did." He took a breath and looked up at Sam again. "I'm sorry for upsetting you. And for staring. That was rude."

"Don't worry about it," Sam said.

"Everything all right in here?" Bobby joined them from the other room, carrying a spiral-bound notebook, sidetracking the conversation before either of them could keep pressing about that echo, or whatever it was. "Hey, Judas. Good to see you."

Judas relaxed marginally and smiled at him. "Hello, Bobby. It's good to see you again, too."

"Yeah," he said. "Thanks for helping us out with this." He passed Judas the notebook. "I took photos of all the pages. They're in there, along with the handwritten transcript."

He nodded. "Thank you." He flipped through the notebook and frowned faintly. "It doesn't look encoded, but I'm not familiar with this dialect, so there might be something here I'm not seeing right off. It'll take me some time, either way."

Bobby shrugged. "Yeah, I figured. Still probably go faster with both of us working at it."

"Yes, of course," Judas said. "Oh, Abba made me get a new phone, if you want the number."

"Yeah, that'd be great," Bobby said. "You want to stay here while we work, or...?"

Judas considered for a moment, then shook his head. "Probably safer if I stay on the move. I'm warded against pretty much everything Abba and I could think of, but I don't want to bring trouble down on you. The longer I stay, the likelier that is."

"Trouble like...?"

"We were talking with Gabriel a while ago," Dean put in, before Judas could answer. "Right after we found the book. He seemed pretty spooked by something. You have any idea what?"

"Specifically?" He shook his head. "No, I don't. It could have been any number of things. Angels who are dissatisfied with Abba's stance in the current chaos, our old pagan friends who may want to use me as bait, among others," Judas said. "He stays on the move, too. And tries to be in at least a couple dozen places at once. But just about everyone knows I can be used to draw him out now, so..." He spread his hands and shrugged.

_Which means Gabriel probably isn't helping Cas as much as he should,_  Dean thought. But that was a problem for another day. Today's problem was the damn Purgatory book and Gabriel being stalked by who the hell knew.

"All right, it's your call," Bobby said.

"I don't think any of these figures, at least not the ones I know, would come after you directly because of us," Judas assured him. "Not unless he or I was already there."

"We're not important enough to you guys?" Dean asked.

"Obviously, I can't speak for Abba," he said, glancing at each of them in turn, "but as for me, it's not the amount of importance, it's whether or not it's _known._  And I'm not a valuable primary target, so far as I know. Believe me, I wouldn't have come if I thought it would endanger you. It might if I stay, but a brief visit--and talking on the phone--should be safe."

He dropped his eyes before actually meeting Dean's, but made it clear that he was included in the answer. There was probably some sort of hidden meaning there, but Dean sure as hell couldn't decode it.

"Good to know," Sam said.

Assuming they could trust Judas' judgement, yeah. And Dean had no reason not to. At least they had Judas' word they didn't need to worry about Gabriel, at least for now--and, whatever the Weapon's reputation, his word was damn good. The one thing that might screw with that would be if he didn't know what was going on, or he couldn't think through it right. Which might have something to do with whatever the hell had made him almost keel over when he saw Sam. "And you're sure you're okay, about the thing that happened earlier?" he asked.

"What thing?" Bobby asked.

"It was an echo. And, yes, you don't need to worry about them. I have them under control." He slid the notebook into his bag, then changed the subject. "I should...I should give you my number and then get moving again." He pulled out a little notepad he'd brought with him, and scribbled something down before passing it over to Bobby.

"Thanks," Bobby said, sliding the paper into his pocket.

"Judas..." Sam started.

Judas smiled up at him. "I'm...I can't possibly tell you how...I'm very glad you're alive. And I'll be in touch, I promise."

For a moment, Sam's jaw set, and Dean was pretty sure he was going to push, but then he sighed and stopped. "Okay, man, if you're sure."

Well, Judas might have been, but _Dean_  wasn't. Even if he was some kind of danger magnet right now, there were still questions they could ask him.

On the other hand, Bobby still had a coin of his, and they had a working number now. It wasn't like Judas was going to drop off the map again. Hopefully.

"I am," Judas answered, before Dean could lodge his half-objection out loud. He smiled briefly at Bobby and gave a quick nod to Dean. "It was good seeing you again. All of you. Bobby, I'll call as soon as I know anything."

"All right. Thanks again," he said, and then Judas slipped out the door. With any luck, he'd be in touch soon, figure out it was a super-easy dialect or a super-easy code for him, and then they'd have a shot at the Mother.

And even if it wasn't, he was still their best chance at getting the intel they needed to contain her before she did any _real_  damage. So long as he was right about Gabriel's problems being safe to put on the back burner, Judas was one hell of a resource. And he was on their team again.

It might not have been exactly everything Dean and the others had wanted to get out of this meeting, but it was enough. Things were actually looking manageable for now.

All he had to hope for was that they stayed that way.

 

 

**_End Part 5_ **


	8. Part 6: Your Cup of Poison, Chapter 1: Sandusky, Ohio

_**Part 6: Your Cup of Poison** _

 

**Chapter 1**

_Sandusky, Ohio_

 

 

Bobby had run through most of his contacts when he decided he'd put off calling Judas long enough. Not that he thought Rufus would take exception, but it didn't feel exactly right, outing him to anyone without his say-so. Besides, he'd had to wait for Samuel Campbell to wander off, because he was _not_  about to expose Judas to him. With or without permission. No telling what that bastard might do with the Weapon of God. Especially when things were already tense, after the girl had gotten shot.

But Judas had been working on the dragons' text, and a lot more actively than he himself had the last couple weeks. He needed to check in, see if there were any updates since the last time they'd talked. Especially given the circumstances--if any of their resources might actually be useful, it was that one.

"I'm about tapped out," Rufus said. "You?"

"One more guy I'm gonna try."

"Anyone I know?"

"Maybe," he said. "You know Simon Goldstein?" There was a chance he did--Rufus hadn't pointed him towards Judas before, but Gail was a mutual friend of theirs, after all.

Rufus thought for a minute. "The Passion expert? Thought he was dead. And what does he know about monsters?"

"He ain't dead, he's just keeping a low profile. He got in over his head helping us out with the Apocalypse," Bobby said. Which _was_  the truth. Not the _whole_  truth of course, but enough. "And he's also a translator--knows more languages than I've even heard of. He's helped me out a couple times, and who the hell knows what else is in that head of his?"

Rufus considered that, then shrugged. "Sure, Bobby, if you say so."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Well, now that I have your permission..." He found Judas' number in his phone, pressed send, and waited.

The Weapon picked up on the second ring. "Yes?"

"Hey, Professor Goldstein, it's Bobby Singer. This a good time?"

There was a short pause, then, "I can talk now. Is there a reason you are using my false name?"

"I'm here with Rufus Turner, I don't know if you know him? Anyway, we're up against this thing, no one we've talked to knows anything like it."

"No one at all?" he asked. "In your entire network?"

"Yeah, I know. We're sort of figuring it's something no one's ever seen or heard of before. Something new."

"New creatures are..." Judas trailed off. "You're sure it's new? I am aware that creatures have been acting out of pattern in recent months. You're sure it's not something ancient that's recently resurfaced?"

"Sure, that's possible," he said. "But we don't really think that's likely."

"I see." He paused for a moment, then asked, "What is it? What does it do?"

"Looks like possession, at least from what we've seen. Listen, I thought you might've got farther than I did in the Purgatory book. You run across anything like that?"

He was quiet for a moment before answering. "I have never heard of a creature that relies on possession. In the...in the book or elsewhere."

"That's pretty much what we were thinking," he said. "Main reason why we don't think it's something old crawled out of the woodwork."

"And you're sure that it's not venom?" Judas asked. "Or one of the more usual entities?"

"Pretty sure, yeah," Bobby said. "We were following a whole trail of monster drama that led us right to it. Plus, we know Eve--the Mother--was close by. That argues for a new thing, don't it?"

Judas sucked in a breath. "I see. I...haven't gotten much farther in the book, I'm sorry. But Eve _is_  capable of creating new monsters, for certain. I have found no references to a creature that possesses, though, so I can't tell you how to handle it. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, no one else knows anything, either. Figured it was worth asking, though."

"Of course. I am sorry I couldn't be more helpful."

"Don't worry about it," Bobby said. Something seemed...off about Judas. Maybe he was still recentering after an echo; he got strange sometimes when one interrupted a conversation, anyway. He hesitated, and glanced over at Rufus--on another call; he must've dug up another number, or maybe gotten a return from a message. Either way, he wasn't paying attention to Bobby's conversation anymore. "Are you all right?"

"What? Oh, I, uh..." He trailed off for a moment, then continued. "I'm...as well as I was the last time we spoke."

Which wasn't saying much, for all he'd kept insisting they didn't need to worry. But, well, Judas couldn't lie, so at least they could be sure he hadn't been captured--since he'd been free before--or left lying in a ditch somewhere, or anything. "All right, if you're sure."

"I am," he said, a little too quickly.

"Call me if you do find anything, yeah?"

"Of course," Judas assured him. "I'm glad to help." Without waiting for a response, the Weapon hung up on him.

Still seemed off, and another dead end. Rufus hung up the phone and swore at it, so he was probably having no more luck than Bobby was. He sighed, skimmed through his contact list, to see who might be worth trying a second time, rather than waiting until they called back.

 

Many miles away, the angel slowly put Judas' phone down.


	9. Part 6, Chapter 2: Undisclosed Location

**Chapter 2**

_Undisclosed Location_

 

 

Eremiel slowly put the abomination's phone down, and scrambled to consider her options. This wasn't the sort of situation she was really trained for--she was an architect, not intelligence, not even really a guard, even if she had been selected for _this_  guard duty. That had always been--

She pulled her thoughts back to the task at hand, to the abomination and his human allies and the enormous problem that had just fallen into her lap.

She'd been given this assignment some weeks ago, and for the most part, it had been largely boring, if a little uncomfortable. Once they'd had an indication of where he was, Eremiel had been dispatched to monitor the activities of Gabriel's abomination--which had meant, as he was quite thoroughly warded, staying in his immediate proximity at all times. And she was one of the foremost loyalist experts in warding and other defensive maneuvers, even if she wasn't much of a soldier. Of course, the abomination was also an expert in such things. He had to have become one, in order to survive and retain his autonomy as long as he had. And it _was_  an important task, despite its drawbacks, especially as Gabriel's activities had remained murky since his return.

But then, a few days ago, she'd been ordered to capture the abomination and bring him here. She'd timed it for one of his echoes, and had gotten him to this house and securely bound by the time his head stopped spinning.

All of this, Eremiel had taken no real issue with. Concealing herself from the abomination's perceptions may have been nearly as difficult as hiding from one of her siblings, and he may have made her skin crawl, being what he was, but...well, orders were orders. And _these_  orders came near-direct from Raphael himself, with only a single seraph as relay. And if she did well, she might even get to see the Archangel himself.

Except, now that she had him here...it wasn't that Eremiel didn't understand the necessity. Now that Balthazar had given his stolen weapons to the rebel Castiel, they needed a counter. And this poison, which could only be made in the living veins of one of the nephilim, was certainly an effective one. While he was processing the components, just touching the abomination's skin burned her, and she knew full well that even surface contact with the extracted poison would be even worse. Consuming or being injected with it would, of course, be fatal.

It was just...it had been hard enough to watch Gabriel's abomination when he was merely wandering, alone and a little bit broken. Now she had to bear witness to his agony--the process was as painful for him as its product would be for her. The last time the poison had been made, before the Flood, most nephilim died before they produced more than two or three doses, from the pain alone. And Gabriel's abomination didn't have even that escape. And, yes, he had made poor choices, and he needed to do penance of course, but...

After a while, Eremiel had taken a somewhat broad definition of her orders to guard him and sent him to sleep, protecting him from that pain. She had never been told not to, after all, and he had been, to her mind, suffering excessively. Even given what he was.

But now...now things had shifted once again, and Eremiel didn't like it. On the surface, there was nothing unusual or alarming about Singer calling the abomination for information. Since she'd observed them reconnecting, they'd spoken several times. She hadn't paid particular attention to the details--unless they were specifically discussing the rebel Castiel, or Gabriel, or angels in general, it probably didn't concern Raphael, and therefore it didn't concern her. And Singer and the abomination never discussed angels.

It had been a simple enough matter, when the phone rang, to mimic the abomination's voice and try to ferret out information. Even if she _wasn't_  in intelligence. Singer hadn't seemed _too_  suspicious, at least, and the abomination's inability to lie had helped her cover for what mistakes she did make. She'd pulled it off, somehow, and even managed to learn a few things.

But what she'd learned from this particular call, and Singer's particular questions, alarmed Eremiel. _Purgatory,_  and the Mother of All, and a text the abomination had been helping him to translate, and a monster that was capable of possession, and drove men mad--a _new kind_  of monster...

Clearly, she should have been paying more attention to the abomination's research. She had failed in her duty.

She would face punishment later, to be sure, but the situation needed to be handled first. Right now, she needed inform her superiors. She closed her eyes and opened herself up to Angel Radio, sending a discreet message up the chain of command.

_Contact made. Robert Singer reached out with questions about Purgatory and the Mother of All. Conversation indicates previous discussions on the same subjects. How shall I proceed?_

It took a few seconds for the response to come.

_Remain as you are. Await further orders._

Eremiel sent an acknowledgement, then pushed her awareness of Angel Radio to the back of her mind. She'd know if her further orders came that way, but the background chatter couldn't distract her.

She returned to closely monitoring Gabriel's abomination. He was still sleeping, but would likely wake soon--she wasn't strong enough to keep him unconscious for very long, not with the backlash from his previous poor choices coupled with the pain he was in now.

But before he did, she heard wings behind her--new orders, and faster than she'd expected. She turned to see her superior, and--

_Oh._

Yes, her current assignment was an important solo project, and _yes_ , the contact had alarmed her, but still. She had hardly expected _Raphael_  to come _in person_  to attend to this.

"H-hello, brother," she finally managed to stammer out.

Raphael smiled slightly at her. "Hello, little sister. Is everything under control here?"

She nodded. "Y-yes, of course."

"Good." He glanced over at the phone. "What can you tell me about this contact?"

She summarized as quickly as she could, then hesitated before adding, "I...I wasn't entirely sure it was anything, brother, but I know a little about the Mother, from when she was last on Earth. If she is again..." Eremiel fidgeted nervously. "The human believes she is. I thought..."

"You did well," Raphael assured her.

She flushed, and it was like the sun was shining in the middle of the night, just for her. "Thank you, brother!"

"Have you questioned Judas?"

And there it went again. She shook her head. "I was told to wait for further orders." Besides, it would have meant speaking directly into the abomination's mind, which she dreaded having to do. He was in _such_  pain, and if she stumbled into an echo...

Raphael nodded. "Of course." He moved past her, to the table where the abomination was bound. He looked back at her. "You have him sleeping?"

Eremiel flushed again, this time for shame. "I...he was in such pain, brother, he was screaming, and I..." She looked down at her feet. "I-I warded his dreams, of course, so..."

Raphael held up a hand to stop her, and smiled at her again. "Compassion is rarely in error, sister."

She brightened. "Yes, of course, thank you, brother."

"I would like you to relax the wards, so I can enter his dreams," he said. "It's probably best to leave him sleeping, he'll be most coherent that way."

Eremiel nodded. "Of course."

"I can hold things from inside, naturally," the Archangel continued, "but you should remain vigilant here."

Eremiel nodded, with perhaps a touch more eagerness than was entirely appropriate. "Yes, brother, I will."

Raphael smiled briefly at her once more, and she let her hand float an inch above the abomination's head, opening just enough of a gap for Raphael to slip though.

The Archangel stepped through, and Eremiel settled herself to watch and wait for his return.


	10. Part 6, Chapter 3: Undisclosed Location

**Chapter 3**

_Undisclosed Location_

 

 

Raphael stepped through the gap Eremiel had opened in her wards, resealed it with wards of his own, then took a moment to get his bearings.

His nephew was dreaming of Gethsemane. The scene was spiky with guilt and grief, carved with excruciating detail into Judas' mind. Everything was overlaid by a sullen, pulsing red light. Raphael knew it wasn't a natural part of the dream; it was merely his nephew's physical pain, reflected even here.

He slipped through the garden, unnoticed by the others drifting towards the inevitable, making his way to where Judas had placed himself, chained to the table at Yeshua's left hand. He rested a hand on his nephew's shoulder--at which gesture Judas flinched--then reshaped the dream around them, seeking somewhere somewhere quiet, peaceful.

He settled them in his nephew's memory of a mountain meadow--somewhere in the Alps, if he was not mistaken. It was early spring in the dream; the flowers were blooming and birds were singing and a stream that should have been clear ran bloody through the grass, the sky burning red above them.

Judas watched him, obviously wary and trembling just a little.

"I'm not here to harm you," Raphael said quietly. His voice, as with the rest of his illusory presence in the dream, was that of his current vessel, the woman. "But we need to talk."

"You're already hurting me," Judas pointed out, his eyes flicking toward the bloody stream.

"An unfortunate necessity," Raphael acknowledged. "But I am at war."

"And I am against you."

"You have made poor choices in the past," Raphael corrected. "But you have remained neutral in the current conflict, at least so far."

Judas said nothing, just continued to watch him.

Beneath them, the mountain began to vibrate. Judas shuddered and curled in on himself, and even Raphael began to taste acid and copper and ash.

He crossed the meadow and knelt next to Judas, resting his fingers lightly on either side of his forehead. It was safe to do so here; touching his nephew's consciousness didn't burn the same way his now-toxic flesh did. Not for nothing was Raphael Heaven's greatest healer, and while he couldn't precisely undo the consequences of his nephew's mistakes--and wouldn't, if he could--he could mitigate at least some of the effects.

The mountain calmed somewhat, the tremors now merely unsettling, rather than nauseating. Raphael tasted only clean air again.

Judas looked up at him, wide-eyed. "What...?"

Raphael allowed himself a smile. "I told you, nephew. I don't want to harm you."

"Did you...did you make them go away?"

He shook his head. "No. Compassion should temper justice, not overwhelm it."

"What _did_  you do?"

Raphael tilted his head, considering how best to explain it. "I provided you with a buffer, so you will no longer be overwhelmed. And as long as you are in my charge, I will continue to do so." The buffer would need to be renewed fairly frequently--the way he'd built it would hold up no more than a week, depending on other factors. If Judas wanted that shielding maintained, he would have to remain cooperative.

It wasn't the main reason for the act, of course, but it could never hurt to hedge one's bets with an uncertain asset.

Judas blinked. "Why?"

"Because I love my brother, and you are his child." Raphael smiled thinly. "And because justice should structure compassion, not consume it."

He clearly had no idea how to respond to that. He looked down, focused on shredding blades of grass he pulled up by the handful.

The sky above them was growing steadily redder, and unless Raphael muffled the physical pain as well, the dream would end soon.

And he was, as he had reminded his nephew, at war.

"But that is not why I am here."

"Of course."

"I need to ask you a few questions."

Judas stiffened, and looked up at the Archangel. "I will _not_  say or do _anything_  against Abba."

"Of course not," Raphael said mildly. "I wouldn't ask you to." True, Judas' willing service--even with Gabriel at least supplying Castiel's faction, though the younger Archangel hadn't taken the field himself--would be a powerful advantage to his war effort, but he knew that there was little or nothing he could do to turn his nephew against Gabriel. So until he could win over his brother, he would only push as far as he had to. He could work with where things stood, for the moment.

He didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded. "Then what?"

"I need you to tell me everything you've learned about the Mother."

Judas blinked. "The...the Mother? What does she have to...why do you care?"

_It should be enough that I am not asking anything to discomfit you._  "Because I do. What do you know of her?"

Judas glanced at the bloody stream and shivered. "Not much. I know she is the source of monsters. I know that a group of dragons was trying--and probably succeeded--in bringing her into this world."

"Do you know why?"

He shook his head.

"You were translating a text about her."

"Yes, but I hadn't gotten far before..." He trailed off, eyes still on the stream. He was starting to grow transparent now, and the sounds of the creek and the birds and the springtime were fading, staticky, as if heard through a badly-tuned radio. "I h-haven't learned very m-much yet."

His nephew would be waking soon; Raphael no longer had the time to be gentle. "The text is with your things, you had it on you when Eremiel took you?" he pressed--he would have her read it and report back to him, if Judas lacked additional information.

"A copy, yes."

Raphael nodded again. _Time to leave._  "Thank you for your support, nephew."

"Raphael," Judas started, then flickered, and lost the thread of whatever he'd wanted.

"We can speak again later," the Archangel said--what his nephew had to say might or might not have been important, but he had what he needed for the moment--then reopened the wards and stepped back out into the physical world.


	11. Part 6, Chapter 4: Mechanicsville, Virginia

**Chapter 4**

_Mechanicsville, Virginia_

 

 

So, Eve was dead, which was about the only positive thing Dean could say about the past freaking week or two. Especially since, the deeper they dug, the more evidence they found that she _wasn't_  lying. No matter how hard he tried to explain it away or deny it, he really couldn't do it anymore.

Crowley was still alive.

Which was why he and Sam were here in a Richmond suburb, tracking down vague, outdated reports of possible demon activity. An old lead was better than no lead, and the sooner they could unravel this whole mess, the better.

There was _one_  promising hint they'd found, at least--there was a house, at the end of a dead-end street up a hill, that sort of r _esisted_  being noticed.

It was the weirdest damn thing. It was like Dean's eyes actively avoided looking directly at it. He glanced over at Sam, who was frowning a little and blinking rapidly at the house. He'd probably noticed the exact same thing.

"Think we should check it out?" he said. It was probably _some_  kind of heavy-duty safehouse. Whether or not Crowley was involved, it was probably worth looking into.

"Yeah, probably," Sam agreed.

They parked the car a couple doors down and raided the trunk for supplies--that kind of warding could mean a bunch of different things, better to be prepared. So they had the knife, guns, all the usual crap--plus, for good measure, a homemade flamethrower Dean had put together a couple months back. Most things at least shied away from fire, even if it didn't kill them.

The house sort of settled when they walked up the front porch. Or at least it stopped trying to trick their eyes into looking away.

Dean pushed open the door. Inside, the place was freaking bare--no furniture, at least not at first glance, and a layer of dust muffling their footsteps. "This place feels empty," he said.

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

They hadn't survived as long as they had without developing some pretty damn fine instincts for trouble, though, and the emptiness had a vague, skin-crawlingly ominous overtone. None of the usual demon signs were there--no bodies, no sulfur, no nothing--so they probably hadn't found what they were looking for here, but this place was sure as hell _something_  worth exploring.

They split up, Sam heading up the stairs and Dean continuing along the main floor.

Or, at least, that had been the plan.

"Dean!" Sam hissed.

Dean turned around, heading back to the stairs.

Sam had stopped on the fourth step. "I'm stuck!"

He swore under his breath. "Okay, try backing up."

Sam glared at him. "I'm not an idiot, I already _did_."

"Okay, sorry," Dean said. "What the hell is going on?"

"I think it's a ward," Sam said. "There should be--" He cut himself off, looking up at the head of the stairs.

Dean moved to see what he was staring at, without trying to climb the stairs himself. No sense in both of them getting stuck.

There was a Hispanic girl in her late teens, slender and dark with a long braid pulled forward over one shoulder, standing there watching them.

"Oh, crap," Dean muttered.

She shifted slightly, tilting her head, considering. "I have no orders about you." She sounded almost nervous.

"So you know who we are," Sam said.

She nodded. "It's hard not to know the Winchesters." Her hand twitched, an angel blade sliding out of her sleeve to rest in her palm.

Dean backed up against the front door, keeping his eyes on the angel--almost definitely one of Raphael's, and they couldn't get close to fight. But he, at least, could move, and if he was careful, he could cut himself and get the banishing sigil in place without her noticing. Sam just had to keep her talking while Dean worked on that. It was all he could do at the moment.

"So, you have us now," Sam said, probably coming up with the same plan Dean had. "Are you going to kill us?"

Dean slashed his palm open and began carefully sketching on the door behind him, trying to move his shoulders as little as possible.

"I have no orders," she said, uncertainly. "But perhaps I should. Or perhaps I should just report you." She nodded. "Yes, I'll do that."

"What's so important here that you have this many wards on this house?" Sam asked, as sharp as he could, probably in an attempt to hold her focus.

The angel tensed. "That is not your concern."

"I've got a concern," Dean piped up.

Her eyes flicked over to him.

He grinned, and slammed his hand back onto the banishing sigil.

She screamed and disappeared in a burst of white light.

Sam's knees buckled, and he caught himself on the wall.

"Sammy? You okay?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Just wasn't expecting to be able to move again so quick."

"Good." Dean started up the stairs. "She's probably already on the horn to Raphael, we gotta hurry if we wanna grab whatever she was guarding."

"Yeah, let's go."

They ran the rest of the way upstairs, watching for other angels or other wards.

Other than the two of them, the place now seemed totally deserted.

The room they were looking for, fortunately, stuck out like a sore thumb. The door was carved with a vast number of Enochian sigils, some they recognized, some they didn't.

They exchanged a look, then Sam shrugged and attempted to kick the door down.

This proved to be less than strategic. Apparently at least one of the spells etched into the door produced a fireball when disturbed.

"Shit!" Sam stumbled back, trying to beat out the flames on his jeans.

"Back up," Dean said, pulling out his flamethrower and aiming it at the door--best way to destroy the sigils as fast as possible and get through the damn thing.

 _That_  worked, and, when the smoke cleared, the two of them pushed through the charred remains.

There was a table in the middle of the room, at the center of an elaborate binding circle that neither of them recognized. Judas was strapped to the table, with an IV going into his right arm. Some sort of thick, off-black sludge, the color of tarnished silver, was dripping from his left wrist into a glass bowl.

"What the hell?" Dean said.

Sam went over to the table and carefully pulled the needle out. More of the sludge welled up in the hole it had left. "Judas? Hey, you with us?"

He didn't answer.

No time to figure it out now, they could try talking to him once they got the hell out of here. Dean crouched down to break the circle, after taking a picture of it for future reference--maybe Bobby could figure out what, exactly, it was for. Especially if Judas wouldn't--or couldn't--tell them himself. "Hurry."

"He's burning up," Sam said, cutting through the straps--it was faster than unfastening them.

"We can deal with that when we get out of Raphael's freaking safehouse. Grab the bowl, too."

Sam nodded. He slung one of Judas' arms over his shoulders, half-carrying him, and picked up the bowl with his free arm. "Let's go."

They somehow managed to make it out of the house and back to the car without any other angels showing up. Sam put Judas in the backseat, and Dean floored it--getting the three of them as far away from the house as he could.

"The hell is that crap?" he asked, once they were a few blocks away and he thought maybe they had some breathing room.

"No idea," Sam said. He'd kept the bowl with him, probably to better keep it from spilling. Until they knew what the hell it was, probably better not to move it to another container. No way of knowing what the hell _that_  might do. "Judas' blood is usually red."

"Yeah, I know." He'd seen it, around those freaking tree branches Michael had grown. "Let's just get it to Bobby. If he doesn't recognize it, he can probably figure it out."

Sam nodded, glanced back at the Weapon--who hadn't moved--and stared down at the bowl in silence, while Dean drove north and west, heading back to Sioux Falls.


	12. Part 6, Chapter 5: Sioux Falls, South Dakota

**Chapter 5**

_Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

 

 

Sam and Dean got Judas safely back to Bobby's in record time, given they were coming in from at least a day's drive away. One brief explanation later, the Weapon was once again stashed as safely as possible in the panic room, still oozing off-black sludge.

Bobby was starting to think that maybe Gabriel should put a leash on that kid, the number of times he'd ended up there for safekeeping.

After settling Judas, Dean rejoined them in the living room. "I called Cas," he said, with just a hint of defiance.

"What the hell? What happened to avoiding calling him?" Bobby said.

Dean glowered at him. "This is about Raphael, not Crowley. And he'd find out eventually and it'd raise red flags if we _didn't_  call when he does."

Bobby sighed. "Dean, we _talked_  about this. We all agreed--"

"Actually, he kind of has a point," Sam interrupted quietly. "No matter how close to the vest Raphael plays this...I mean, if nothing else, he'll pick up on it when Gabriel finds out. Besides, we probably need some kind of angel backup on this one, and unless--"

Before he could finish his thought, or they could argue any further, Cas appeared between them. "I heard your call, Dean. What happened?"

Bobby backed off a little, letting the boys do the talking--they'd been the one to find Judas, after all, and Dean had been the one to call Cas in the first place.

"It's Judas," Sam answered. "He was poisoned, or something. We think Raphael had him."

The angel stared at him. "You went up against Raphael? By _yourselves?_ "

"What? No," Sam said.

"We were tracking a lead on another case--witchy stuff--and we found a house that was warded to the gills," Dean clarified, fast on his feet in what wasn't quite a lie. "Thought it might be related, so we went in. Turned out it was this angel chick babysitting Judas."

"You were very lucky that was all you found," Cas said.

"Yeah, we know."

The angel shook his head. "You said you thought Judas had been poisoned?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "She had some sort of IV going into him, and he had a pretty intense fever and was obviously in a lot of pain. He's down in the panic room. We were hoping you could do something, before we risked pissing off Gabriel...?"

Castiel nodded. "Of course." He disappeared.

He wasn't gone long.

"That was fast," Bobby said.

"Did you heal him? Is he okay?" Sam asked, hard on his heels.

Cas shook his head. "I can't, not yet."

"What do you mean?"

"You were half-right, about the poison," he said. "But hurting Judas was incidental. Raphael was _making_  a poison."

"...by poisoning Judas?" Dean asked.

"Yes. Holy oil, and ashes from an angel's feathers, and a few other ingredients--I don't have the full list--mix with the living blood of an angel and a human to form a substance that is incredibly toxic to angels. Just touching his skin burned me." Cas held up a hand to show them. "Going any deeper..."

"So, you can't heal him until the poison's worked its way out of his system," Sam said. "Is there anything we can do?"

Cas shook his head. "Not really. You could try to drain it faster, maybe, but it will likely still take a couple of hours, at least. The poison is thicker than blood and...resists extraction, no matter how wide an artery you open."

Sam made a face, but nodded. "Okay."

"I'm sorry I can't do more," he said, then glanced upward. "I have to go. Call me when his blood runs red again. I can repair the damage then. Glass is best to contain the poison you draw out of him." He disappeared before they could ask any more questions.

The three of them sat in silence for a minute, then Dean broke it. "So, now we have to go basically bleed Judas dry, is that what everyone else got out of that?"

"Yeah," Sam said, and sighed. "I'll do it."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I've got an old aquarium somewhere we can collect that sludge in," Bobby said.

"Great," Sam said, then stood up and headed off to go dig it up.

Once he was probably out of earshot, Bobby turned back to Dean. "I'm not saying your logic ain't good, calling Cas about this, but you should've run it by us, first."

Dean sighed. "Really? Look, I didn't say crap about Crowley."

"I know. And probably we would've agreed anyway, but Dean--we're keeping one hell of a secret from the guy. Until we know for sure what's what, we _can't_  make decisions about him half-cocked. And not without talking it over first."

"What the hell do you want me to say? I'm sorry I did it? 'Cause I'm not," he said.

"No, I'm not--" Bobby sighed. "It's done now. Seems to be going all right. We just gotta hope it stays that way."

And, neither of them said out loud, that they could handle however pissed Gabriel got when they finally _did_  call him. Hopefully Sam could drain the poison fast, so they could get the Weapon patched up and start damage control sooner rather than later.


	13. Part 6, Chapter 6: Sioux Falls, South Dakota

**Chapter 6**

_Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

 

Sam headed down to the panic room, and set the aquarium down on the floor. Judas was curled up tight on the cot, shaking a little. The bandage on his wrist was already stained the poison's sickly off-black.

He sat on the ground next to the aquarium and gently took Judas' left arm to unravel the bandage.

Judas shifted, looking at Sam. He didn't seem all that aware--he hadn't since they'd found him in that house--but at least he was responding a little to touch. At least he wasn't in so much pain that he couldn't perceive it.

Sam would take what optimism he could right now.

"Hey," he said, with a smile that he really hoped came off less forced than it felt.

Judas closed his eyes and whimpered faintly.

He sighed. "I'm...really sorry about this, but Cas...I don't know. He's been acting weird, and there's what Eve--nevermind. You don't need to hear about all that crap right now." He finished unwinding the bandage and checked the cut under it. It was still dripping black sludge, even hours after they'd pulled the IV. _Damn. He wasn't kidding about how long this would take._

As firmly as he could, he squelched memories of when _he'd_  been locked up down here, waiting for something toxic to work its way out of his blood. He took a breath, then went on, as much thinking out loud as trying to reassure his friend. "But Cas said we had to drain all of this crap out of you before he could heal you. I know it's gonna hurt, and I wish it didn't have to, but...I dunno, I don't think he'd lie about this."

Judas didn't move or respond, which was probably for the best. Moving probably hurt.

"Then again," Sam muttered, "I wouldn't've thought he'd lie about Crowley 'til recently. Look, I'm gonna...I'm gonna open this up a little more, okay? Maybe get this crap out of you faster."

Still no response, which was--well, _hopefully_  it was good. Not like he knew what was running through Judas' head right now.

As gently as he could, Sam lengthened and deepened the gash before positioned the bleeding arm over the aquarium.

But the blood--or the poison--was thick, flowing slowly, even with the cut on Judas' wrist expanded all the way up to his elbow. Cas had said that, no matter what they did, it would take a few hours, but if Sam could get any more flowing...even a little bit of help was better than nothing. "Judas? I can...I think I can speed it up, maybe, so you won't...but I'll have to cut you open again to do it. Your other arm, at least. Is that...do you want me to do that?"

Judas' eyes opened again, and--slowly and deliberately--he blinked.

"...was that an okay to go ahead?" Sam asked. "I mean, I don't know how much you're hearing right now..."

Judas blinked again, then let his eyes fall shut.

"I'm going to guess that's a yes," Sam said. "I'm so, so sorry if I'm wrong. But we'll get this over with, and Cas will come back and finish healing you, and maybe it'll turn out he just screwed up and isn't lying." While he talked, he carefully opened Judas' other wrist, as long and as deep as he could, and laid it next to the left, over the aquarium. He hesitated, considering other veins he could open, but it would be hard to make sure they all dripped into the aquarium. And, even if he _was_  lying, Sam didn't want to accidentally poison Cas when he came back by spilling.

So, he cleaned his knife and put it away. "Okay. Um, that part wasn't so bad, was it?" He cleared his throat. "I don't think I can safely open anything else, so, um, I'll check in on you in an hour or so, okay?"

As Sam started to stand, Judas' right hand shifted, brushing the tips of his fingers.

He blinked. "You...do you want me to stay?"

Judas' fingers curled slightly. It looked like he was trying to hold Sam's hand.

And, once again, he thought back to his own detox experience, and how maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't have been so awful if he hadn't been alone.

Sam smiled just a little, and sat back down, shifting his own hand to grip Judas' fingers lightly. "Okay. I can stay."


	14. Part 6, Chapter 7: Sioux Falls, South Dakota

**Chapter 7**

_Sioux Falls, South Dakota_

 

 

Cas had come and gone, leaving Judas healed and sleeping and taking the aquarium of poison with him. That hadn't been entirely unexpected--he was fighting a brutally uneven and desperate war; it wouldn't have made sense for him to tell them how to dispose of it instead. Even how curt he was in doing it was, at least lately, par for the course in Sam and Dean's interactions with him.

Pretty much all of it, in fact, went without surprises until Gabriel flew in, less than a half hour after Cas left, and damn near put Dean through a wall.

"Why the _hell_  did you do that?" he snapped.

"Gabriel, what the hell?!" Dean choked out.

At the same time, Sam launched to his feet--to do what, exactly, he didn't know; he didn't exactly have a weapon that would work on an Archangel.

Gabriel flung out a hand, slamming Sam into a bookshelf against the opposite wall. "Tell me, _please,_  why you two decided to torture him for _hours?_  Did that freaking poison really mean that much to you?"

"The pois--wait, you mean _Judas?_ " Sam asked. "We didn't--we did everything we could for him!"

Gabriel pushed again, and Sam felt his back bruising from the shelves. "Try again."

"Hey, we did _exactly_  what Cas told us to," Dean snapped. "We drained all the freaking poison so Cas could heal him."

Gabriel blinked. "Cas told you to do that?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "Like I said, we did everything we--"

Gabriel dropped them and backed up a few paces. "Sorry. Sorry, I didn't know--I hadn't heard from him, when he'd _promised_  he'd check in. I was about to ask you guys to summon him, when his dreams suddenly opened up again, and I...yeah, I guess I overreacted a little bit there."

"You think?" Dean grumbled, checking his ribs gingerly.

The Archangel ignored that, running a hand through his hair distractedly. "It just doesn't make _sense._  Why would Cas...?"

"Wait," Sam said. "Are you saying we didn't have to bleed Judas like that?"

Gabriel shook his head. "All you had to do was stop his heart. Living blood means circulating blood, no heartbeat means no circulation, which means no more poison and a hell of a lot less pain. And he can't die, so it'd start right back up again on its own after a minute or so."

"So he lied," Sam said quietly.

"Or he was wrong," Dean insisted.

Gabriel looked from one to the other. "...why do I get the feeling I'm missing something important here?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, then Dean answered. "Remember when we were talking a couple months back about monsters?"

"The dragons and stuff, right. What about them?"

"Well, at least part of why they were so riled up was because Crowley was kidnapping and torturing them, trying to get at Purgatory," he continued.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "Sounds like more fun than it actually would be. What does this have to do with Cas?"

"Wait, what do you know about Purgatory?" Dean asked. "Anything that might help us fix this mess?"

He sighed. "Sorry, but not as much as you might think," he admitted. "Purgatory is old, it's _hella_  dangerous, and poking at it is probably gonna do more harm than good."

"So, about what we know," he said. "Great."

"Hey, I'm not omniscient," Gabriel snapped. "And there's a limit on how many places I can be at once. Tell me what the hell is going on."

Before anyone could get flung into any more bookshelves, Sam tried to steer the conversation back on track. "A few months back, we cornered Crowley, and Cas burned his bones," he said. "Which should have killed him, right? Only Eve got out of Purgatory--"

"Of course she did," Gabriel said. "Because the world wasn't already screwed up enough."

"Do you want us to tell you what happened or not?" Dean asked.

"Fine, fine," he said. "I'll stop interrupting."

"She told us that Crowley was still alive," Sam finished. "And it's looking more and more like she wasn't lying."

"So, that means either Cas somehow got the wrong bones--" Dean said.

"Or he's lying to you and maybe even working with Crowley," Gabriel finished for him. "It's...possible. Little brother's sort of desperate."

"Well, why aren't _you_  helping him more?" Dean asked. "Maybe he wouldn't be that desperate if you were."

"I'm doing what I can, okay?" Gabriel shot back. "By the time I got back home, they'd already drawn their battle lines, or I would've made damn sure to nip it in the bud. And, also, I might have a lot of power to sling around, but it ain't worth _squat_  when you guys are two of the like five people I can be pretty sure don't actively want me dead right now. If I _was_  more involved, I'd probably do a hell of a lot more harm than good, so don't you _dare_  blame this mess on me."

Again, Sam stepped in before Gabriel and Dean could escalate things further. "No one's blaming anyone. It is what it is, how do we _fix_  it?"

The Archangel backed down a little. "We gotta try to defuse this before anyone actually touches Purgatory. Like I said, I don't know what exactly that would mean, other than a _lot_  of bad."

"With you so far. Any actual plan?"

"I don't know enough yet," he said. "I'll do what I can from my end, see if I can get any intel without getting killed."

"Why don't you just shut Raphael down?" Dean asked. "If the threat's gone--"

"If I challenge him directly, that'll cause a _lot_  of collateral damage," Gabriel interrupted.

"...how much collateral are we talking?" Sam asked. If it was anything like what they'd been looking at with Michael and Lucifer...

"Enough," he said quietly. "We're still Archangels. I might be able to talk him down, if I have enough to talk him down with, but..." He sighed. "Look, I'll try, but even if I manage, once Purgatory's on the table, everything becomes a hell of a lot more complicated. And don't--don't tell anyone how involved I am, okay? Secret backup might be what saves the day in the end."

Which--okay, it sort of had before. And the more backup plans they had, the better chance that at least one of them would succeed. It was a better plan than flailing at nothing, at least. "All right. Thanks. And...sorry, about..."

Gabriel shook his head. "You didn't know. I'll hide him, then start running down my contacts. If I find anything out, I'll call as soon as I can."

"Good," Dean said.

"Good luck," the Archangel said, then vanished in a rain of feathers.

 

 

**_End Part 6_ **


	15. Part 7: Your Followers Are Blind, Chapter 1: Undisclosed Location

_**Part 7: Your Followers are Blind** _

 

**Chapter 1**

_Undisclosed Location_

 

 

Gabriel had taken Judas to one of his safehouses in Norway--he'd spent some time improving them, since the two of them had reconnected. This one was buried deep, and the kid would be safe there for a good six months minimum. Then he'd made sure Raphael hadn't gone after Jane, to get a few more doses of poison since he'd lost what Judas left, and, after she refused his protection, he'd finally started digging.

He'd been at it for days, and while he had nowhere near a complete picture yet, he had enough to be sure that Sam's suspicions were anything but unfounded. Still, before he actually attempted to _do_  anything about it, he wanted to be absolutely sure--or as close as he could possibly get. And that, since he didn't want to confront Cas directly until he was ready to act, meant calling someone in his little brother's camp. And, since discretion was, for the moment, still the better part of valor, it had to be a face-to-face chat, staying the hell away from Angel Radio.

Balthazar looked _incredibly_  annoyed to be summoned. Not that Gabriel blamed him--getting yanked away from whatever to answer someone's pushy questions _sucked._

"Hey, bro," Gabriel said. "Been a while since we talked. Thought I'd make up for lost time."

"You could have called," Balthazar pointed out. "You know I'm always happy to hear from you, Gabe."

"Oh, you know me," Gabriel said. "I've been keeping my head down."

"Yes, I had noticed that." Balthazar slouched into one of the chairs Gabriel had provided. "Well, at least you summoned me somewhere nice, instead of a bloody junkyard."

"Yeah. Humans make do with what they have," he said, with a shrug. "I like to improve things."

"So I see," he replied.

"Drink?"

"Absolutely."

Gabriel snapped his fingers and they appeared--straight bourbon for his brother, and a strawberry daiquiri for himself.

"So, delighted as I am to finally hear from you, I'm sure you didn't summon me for a drink and a friendly chat."

"No," Gabriel admitted. "But we should do that when this is over."

"Oh, absolutely. Vegas?"

"Yeah, remind me." They could probably all use a vacation once this mess was over, and _man,_  Vegas with Balthazar would be a blast.

But first he had to finish cleaning up the current mess.

He sighed, and set his drink aside. "But for now..."

"What is it?"

"I've been hearing some things, about some tactics Cas might be leaning towards."

Balthazar arched an eyebrow. "Just what are you implying, Gabe?"

"Implying? Oh, nothing. But I'm _inferring_  a bunch of crap, and I wanted to check with you before I made any kind of move."

"Why me?"

"Because you're a lot closer to him than I am right now. And you won't pitch a fit if I'm wrong." _Or try to stab me for abandoning you._

Balthazar considered this for a moment, then shrugged. "Fair enough. What are your inferences?"

"So, this is what I know," Gabriel said, picking up his drink again and fiddling with the paper umbrella. "I know that Crowley was poking at Purgatory. I know that Cas--either by mistake or on purpose--made it look like Crowley was dead and he definitely isn't. I know that the Alpha Vampire thinks that Crowley had a silent partner who was not tied to Hell. He told me he never saw an angel, but he thought that was possible." _Then he started throwing things and I left before he could actually do some damage._  At least he had seemed more pissed about Gabriel poking at a recent sore spot than the hey-guess-what-Loki-isn't-just-Loki mess. Something to bear in mind for the future. "And I know Cas has been lying to Sam and Dean--he's hurting bystanders and roping the two of them in to do it."

"And, from all of that, you infer..."

"Cas and Crowley are going for Purgatory together. And Cas is trying to weaponize it."

Balthazar studied his bourbon. "I see your logic there. Based on what you know."

"Am I anywhere close to the truth?"

"About the specifics?" Balthazar shook his head. "I couldn't tell you. Cassie's been playing things close to the vest. But he's _also_  been very interested in shoring up loyalty lately. So, yes, I do think he's on the verge of a desperate, risky, unethical play. And if Crowley and Purgatory have been in the news lately...yeah, I'd say you're probably damn near hitting the mark."

"Right. Okay." Gabriel sighed. "Thanks, Balthazar."

Balthazar studied him for a moment. "What are you planning to do?"

"I'm gonna try to find another solution before anyone does anything too stupid."

Balthazar snorted. "Good luck with that."

Gabriel smiled. "Yeah, thanks."

He nudged at the air a little, loosening the compulsion of the summoning spell. It would have worn off in another half-hour or so anyway, but he'd gotten what he needed and there was no reason to antagonize his little brother further.

Balthazar smirked a little and raised his glass in a little half-salute. "If this doesn't go your way, of course..."

"We never met," Gabriel assured him. Whatever Balthazar decided to do from here, he was clearly planning on serving as some sort of independant agent. He was hardly going to interfere with that. "See you in Vegas."

"Absolutely." With a rush of air and a faint flutter of his wings, Balthazar was gone.

Okay. Time to move. The best way to nip this in the bud was probably to go through Raphael. If Gabriel went to Cas first, without any real solution, he'd probably make his little brother feel even _more_  cornered and desperate. Best to avoid that.

But Raph was smart, and in a much more secure position. If Gabriel played this right, his older brother would be willing to listen.

And Archangels had a private frequency on Angel Radio, so he could get the meeting set up right away, without attempting a summoning.

_Raphael. I want to meet. It's important. No tricks, no weapons--from either of us, please. You choose when and where._

He waited for a few minutes, finishing his drink.

_Ken Lay's Heaven. Four hours. I'll be there._

Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief. Assuming Raph wasn't setting a trap, he was at least receptive enough to meet. It was a start, anyway. And he'd been Loki Silvertongue for centuries--now that he had an opening, he could totally walk this back.

Hopefully without anyone getting stabbed or set on fire this time.


	16. Part 7, Chapter 2: Heaven

**Chapter 2**

_Heaven_

 

 

When Gabriel snuck into Ken Lay's Heaven, he half-expected Raphael would be gone.

Or, alternatively, heavily armed and waiting to take him down. Dad knew at least a good two-thirds of Heaven--on _both_  sides of the current conflict--hated him for the whole witness protection stunt he'd pulled. And Raph had more reason than most, being stuck handling Michael all by himself for all that time, and now running things with next to no support.

But, no, his last close-brother was waiting, under the truce conditions Gabriel had asked for, ensconced in one of the opulent leather chairs.

"I got your message," Raphael said.

"Yeah," Gabriel said. "Look, I'm not here to fight--"

"But you are against me."

He sighed, and slouched into the chair across from his brother. "I'm sick of the fighting. Michael and Lucifer, you and Castiel, and all the others who get caught up in it...I just want it to stop."

"I know." Raphael relaxed a little. "But, Gabriel...this is all we have left. Father is gone, and his last orders-- _Michael's_  last orders..."

"I get it, Raph, I do," Gabriel said. "I think you're wrong, but I get it. But that's not what I'm here for."

Raphael closed off again. "Then why did you ask to meet? Because I held your child? Listen, I can explain--"

Gabriel tensed. "No. Not right now. But believe me, brother, we will have _words_  later."

"I needed weapons--"

"I _said_  not now!"

They sat in silence for an achingly long minute.

"Why are you here, Gabriel?" Raphael finally asked. "If not to fight or surrender or seek vengeance for Judas, then _why?_ "

"See, this is exactly what I'm talking about," Gabriel said, leaning forward. "We're all about the fighting now, we're so caught up in it that I can't even come see you without--"

"The _point,_  Gabriel," Raphael interrupted. "You and I both have better things to do than weep for what we once were."

Bitterly disappointed, Gabriel sat back again. "You're not the only one who's gotten desperate," he finally said. "And...look, I don't have any hard facts, exactly, just...some things I've heard, and a bad feeling."

"What sort of things?"

"Purgatory."

Raphael's eyes narrowed. "What about it?"

"Look, Raph...I have friends--or I used to--from all over the map. So I know about Purgatory, probably more than most angels." He took a deep breath. "It's older than _us_ , Raph, and it's been locked away for as long as I can remember. And I think Castiel is trying to weaponize it."

Raphael leaned back, considering. "He'll never be able to control it."

Gabriel did _not_  like his brother's tone. "Neither will you. I don't think even _Michael_  could. Not for long."

"You have so little faith in me, brother."

"I'm trying to be _smart_  here. Purgatory is _way_  more trouble than it's worth."

"Then what would you suggest I do?"

He took a deep breath. "Back down."

Raphael scoffed.

"Not forever," Gabriel said. _Though I hope you will._  "Just long enough for us to work this out. Look, I've been supplying Castiel--"

"I know," Raphael interrupted dryly.

"And," Gabriel continued, "I think I can get him to do the same. To _talk,_  instead of trying to wipe each other out."

For a moment, Raphael considered, and Gabriel thought he might have actually done it, talked his bother into a real truce, with a chance for something long-term.

"Please, Raph," he said. "I think I can pull this off. And too many of us have died."

Raphael didn't answer right away, but Gabriel could pinpoint the exact instant when his brother's mind was made up.

Made up exactly the wrong way.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel," the other Archangel said quietly.

Before Gabriel could reply, another angel appeared, behind Raphael and slightly to his right. One of the Ophanim, an architect.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, shifting nervously.

"What is it, Eremiel?" Raphael asked, indicating she should come closer.

_...huh. Interesting._  he thought. Eremiel was a hard one to forget, even though he hadn't seen her more than once or twice before things...happened.

And here she was, elevated to Raphael's inner circle. _Very_  interesting.

She bent and murmured something in Raphael's ear, too quiet for Gabriel to hear.

Raphael's eyes widened. "...tell him we'll speak. See to security."

She didn't look happy, but she nodded and flew away.

"Raphael?" Gabriel asked.

His brother smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, little brother. I have to cling to what I know."

"Raph--"

"Go, Gabriel. Our truce will hold, at least until I see you again," Raphael said, then flew off, presumably to join Eremiel.

Gabriel swore. "Why does nobody _listen_  to me?"

He didn't wait for an answer.

He knew the implicit threat Raphael had given--if he didn't leave the parts of Heaven his older brother controlled ASAP, the price would go right back on his head and all bets would be off.

He spread his wings and fled back to Earth, as silently as he could. Raphael hadn't listened, but--added pressure or not--maybe there was a chance he could get through to Cas, before his desperate little brother cracked Purgatory.


	17. Part 7, Chapter 3: Undisclosed Location

**Chapter 3**

_Undisclosed Location_

 

Eremiel carefully lined up the jars of various compounds, debating which to start with. She knew exactly how she was going to secure this meeting, and, as different sigils were more effective with different media, there _was_  a decision to make. But, if she were to be completely honest with herself, the debate was merely an excuse. She was _stalling._

Which was a horrible, _horrible_  thing to contemplate. She had been ordered to confirm and secure this meeting. She had been entrusted with it despite her many mistakes in the past, up to and including her recent disastrous handling of Gabriel's abomination. And she was a good angel. She _was._  And to hesitate, even for an instant, was _such_  a failure, _such_  a breach...

But the fact was, she felt that this meeting was a grave mistake. Not because there was any real chance the self-proclaimed King of Hell could harm an Archangel, but to _work_  with him, to promise him...surely _something_  untoward, was...the only word she could find was _wrong._

But Raphael had ordered it, and Eremiel had been entrusted with it, and she _was_  stalling, which was practically disobedience.

She reminded herself that she was a good angel, she had to be good, and selected a jar of pure honey, mixed with raw milk from a perfect ewe--peace and prosperity, plenty and protection. The sigils painted with it would secure the room the way a home should be secure, and in theory increase the chances of a happy outcome. And it was a comforting place to start. With any luck, it would silence her poisonous doubts.

The blood sigils came next--silencing the room to outside ears, and muting (with some subtlety) the demon's powers. She painted several different sigils, working in slightly different ways, requiring different sources and blends of blood--from a variety of animals, from humans of different statuses, and a small amount from her.

No carved sigils, not for this meeting. After all, in an emergency, a ward or spell might need to be removed or altered in haste, and those could take precious milliseconds longer than more impermanent designs.

So, the last set were in paint, and would remain inactive until her will--her Grace--nudged them to life. The blood, the milk and honey--these were automatic, charged by their very creation, but this last set was one of sealing. Once Eremiel commanded them to action, Raphael and the demon would be locked in their bodies, and their bodies in the room, until she deactivated them or was forced out of range.

Raphael landed next to her just as she was finishing the last sigil. He studied the wards for a moment, then nodded. "Good."

Eremiel relaxed a little, under her brother's approval. Everything would be all right. She'd behaved correctly, and he was here now. Her worries were groundless.

"You don't approve of this, do you," he said. It wasn't a question.

She flushed and looked away. "I would never question you, brother."

Raphael nodded. "But you think that this is too great a risk."

She didn't have an answer for that.

"It _is_ > a risk, little sister," he said. "But it is a calculated one."

"Yes, brother," she said.

He studied her for a moment. "How much of my conversation with Gabriel did you hear?"

"Not much," she assured him. She had, in fact, been careful to avoid eavesdropping on the Archangels. She had no reason or right to do otherwise.

Raphael nodded. "Then I'll only say this--what I am about to do _is_  dangerous, exceptionally so. Even if I am successful, there may be unintended consequences, and, until I can raise Michael, it may be difficult to contain."

_Why is he telling me this? ...why is he telling_  me _this?_  "What do you want me to do?"

Raphael produced a few sheets of parchment, so thin they were nearly transparent.

Eremiel could feel the power contained in those pages. Her eyes widened. "Are those..."

"Raziel's, yes," he said.

She nodded, speechless. The Sefer Raziel was, short of the Word itself, one of the most informative--and, therefore, potentially dangerous--texts in the universe. Of course, the contents of the book _were_  primarily defensive, but even so. And the last time the Sefer Raziel had actually been _used_  was the Flood, when Raphael himself had loaned it to Noah for his work. If Raphael was bringing it out now, whatever the demon was offering, whatever had so frightened Gabriel, had the potential to be that destructive.

And he seemed to be giving it to _her_.

"Wh-what..." She cleared her throat. "What should I do with it?"

"For now, protect it, by any means necessary," he said. "I will call on you if I need more."

Eremiel nodded, and slipped the pages up her sleeve, next to her blade. They felt warm and heavy, and she was acutely conscious of their presence next to her vessel's skin in a way that she never was of her weapon.

The demon arrived then, before Raphael could give any further instructions. He smiled at Eremiel, oily and sharp, and she bristled in response. She was a _good_  angel, and by all rights she should be smiting it, not allowing it to--

"You wanted to talk, Crowley," Raphael said. "I'm listening. Eremiel?"

She nodded, let go of her irritation as best she could, and extended her Grace to activate the last of her sigils. The demon and the Archangel faded from all of her senses save her awareness of the wards. She settled in to wait, until Raphael had concluded his business.

She felt Raziel's pages clinging to her and shivered. _Please, let this go well. Let these go unneeded._

A too-familiar silence answered her, and she poured all of her awareness back into her wards, waiting. 


	18. Part 7, Chapter 4: Undisclosed Location

**Chapter 4**

_Undisclosed Location_

 

It took Gabriel a lot longer than he'd expected to track down Castiel. Sure, the kid had gotten smart--and cagey as hell--over the last couple years, but Gabriel had was even better at hiding. He had more experience, at least. And he knew all the best places and more than a few of the best shielding techniques. In theory, all he had to do was find and trace the right combination of energy signatures.

The "finding" was where he kept tripping up, which made him more and more...concerned, that was a good word. Yeah. _Concerned._  If Cas was putting _that_  much effort into shielding...

When Balthazar died, Gabriel upgraded his status from "concerned" to "oh, crap." He dug deeper, and searched faster, deciding to risk diverting some more energy from his own protections until finally--

_There._  Really freaking far from where Cas' base had been last he'd checked, but--well, cagey, and Raph was breathing down his neck. _Just hope I'm not too late._

He flew there as fast as he could, then wormed his way through Cas' shields, finding the cracks the way only someone intimately familiar with the boundaries between Angel and Everything Else could.

As soon as he got in, Gabriel knew that something was very, _very_  wrong.

_...shit._

He was too damn late.

Cas was stretched to the breaking point, barely maintaining a makeshift seal and tenuous control over power he wasn't built to hold--power _no_  angel was built to hold. He was superheated, and vibrating like a guitar string tuned way, way, _way_  too high. Any second, any _movement,_  and he could snap, taking probably the entire damn universe with him.

Every instinct Gabriel had was screaming at him to get the hell out, to run again, as far and as fast as he could; to pick up Judas and Kali and any of his old friends and siblings who would come and as many humans as he could and just _run,_  this time without stopping.

But he hadn't spent the last two and a half years getting the whole "sometimes, you gotta stand and fight" thing beaten into his brain for shits and giggles. Like it or not, stupid or not, this time, he wasn't running.

Well, not before he'd at least _tried_  to defuse this whole mess.

"Hey, Cas," he said, keeping his tone as light and nonthreatening as he could.

"Hello, Gabriel."

"So," he said, "it, uh, looks like you managed to find Purgatory."

"I did, yes."

"Good, good," Gabriel said. "That's, uh, that's really impressive, bro. But, hey, have you thought about what you're gonna do with it? Why don't we...talk, see what your options are?"

Castiel smiled. "I am very clear on my options, Gabriel."

_Shit. Shitshitshit._  "Of course you are. Why wouldn't you be?" He took a deep breath. "Look, man, I'm sorry."

He tilted his head. "Sorry?"

"I should have helped you more. I should never have let you get this desperate."

Cas smiled again, beatifically, and it scared the _crap_  out of Gabriel. "I know why you made the choices that you did, and I forgive you for them. I forgive you for not risking more to help me, when I needed you."

Gabriel was pretty sure that this show of mercy was _not,_  in fact, a good thing. "Well, um, thanks for that. I'm, uh, grateful, and glad that you forgive me, brother."

"But I'm not your brother anymore," he said.

_...oh shit._

"And, while I do appreciate what help you did give me in the past, I cannot allow you to interfere now."

_Fuck!_  Gabriel tried to run, and found himself blocked. _He's going to kill me I'm going to die here_ dammit _I don't wanna die here!_  He closed his eyes and braced himself, because what the hell else could he do, and then--

He...

He wasn't dead.

Cautiously, Gabriel opened his eyes and drew his blade. Cas--or whatever the entity that used to be Cas now was--had shoved him away, rather than killing him. He'd ended up--

_Hah._

No man's land--and not the fun kind, with hookers and blow and no rules to speak of. No, this was a border territory between a couple of Faerie realms. Realms that, while nominally not at war, delighted in sending sneak attacks through here, which made it one of the most dangerous (accessible) places in the universe. Or, at least, it was when said realms were maneuvering, which, on any given day, without additional context clues, was about even odds.

And it was, unless Gabriel was very much mistaken, the _same_  no man's land where he'd dropped Cas to keep him from messing with TV Land.

Although _he_  had had the courtesy to dump his little brother close to the edge, within sight of the portal back to Earth. And when context had improved his odds.

Cas had dropped him in the frigging _heart_  of the place.

Trickster that he still was, he halfway appreciated the poetry of the moment. Though, to be fair, he would have appreciated it more if Cas hadn't turned himself into an unstable nuke just before doing it.

He closed his eyes and focused. Communication from this part of Faerie was spotty at best, but he still reached out, first to Judas, then to Dean, then Sam. If he couldn't get out in time to fix whatever Cas had broken--if he _could_  fix whatever Cas had broken--he could at least warn someone closer so they could try.

All he got was static, all three times, and...something _very_  unsettling buried in the static the third time, something he couldn't quite name. Not without a closer look. Which, of course, he couldn't get from here.

_Dammit._

Well, at least he wasn't dead. And it might be a pain in the ass, and it would probably take him days--if not weeks--but he _could_  fight his way out of here. Eventually. Probably too damn late to do anyone any good, but if there was a world left to clean up after Cas exploded, he could help with that.

Gabriel took a deep breath, shifted his grip on his blade, and started to make his way toward the exit.


	19. Part 7, Chapter 5: Undisclosed Location

**Chapter 5**

_Undisclosed Location_

 

Eremiel curled protectively around Raziel's pages. She still didn't know exactly what arrangement Raphael and the demon had made, other than it had something to do with stealing a powerful weapon from right under the rebel Castiel's nose. She'd been left here after taking the wards down, alone, waiting for Raphael to either call on her or come to retrieve the book.

She had noticed the sudden _shift_  in universal boundaries, but she had assumed that to be all a part of Raphael's dangerous plan. She trusted and obeyed him, so she wasn't worried.

Then there was a brief, unsettling moment, much like the ripples from when Michael and Lucifer had been locked away two years ago--it seemed, under the circumstances, that something had happened to Gabriel. Gabriel must have attempted to interfere, that's all. And Raphael had pushed him away, rather than hurt him. Yes, that made perfect sense. In any case, he was still alive, so she wasn't worried.

And then...

And then.

It happened so _fast_  that Eremiel almost thought she'd imagined it.

When she reached and felt the raw wound in the Host, the wound where Raphael was supposed to be, she screamed. For a long time, she couldn't stop screaming. She even woke her vessel up, confusing and frightening the poor girl.

It was that fear, that spike of too-close, too-vivid feeling, that gave Eremiel an anchor in her well of loss, helping her surface.

Shaking, she checked her wards, and her blade, and the pages, making sure everything was intact.

_What_  happened? _What could--how could--I don't understand, I don't--_

And then the second shockwave hit. _Thousands_  of her brothers and sisters, all friends, all loyal, screaming and then--gone.

And then the rebel Castiel's voice echoed in her head, painful and inescapable and deadly-calm.

"Understand--if you followed Raphael, if you stood against me, punishment is certain. There is nowhere to hide. The rest of you, our Father left a long time ago, and that was hard. I thought the answer was free will, but I understand now. You need a firm hand. You need a Father. And I am your Father now. Be obedient, children, or this will be your fate. It is a new day, on Earth and in Heaven. Rejoice."

Eremiel felt heavy, like she was slowly turning into a painful, toxic stone, sinking to the depths of the ocean. Raphael had been unsuccessful. The rebel Castiel had whatever weapon the demon had offered. And he would come for her, as he had come for so many of her brethren, and unless she came up with something _fast,_  he would get the Book of Raziel. It couldn't be _taken_  from her, not outright. The knowledge it contained would be nothing but gibberish to a thief. But there were ways to force her to give it away. And with power like he had backing him now--power that enabled him to destroy an Archangel and murder half of Heaven in an eyeblink...

That, more than the threat to her own life, had her scrambling for a plan. Every loyalist angel was dead or soon would be, and, even if he found some reason to spare her--she was an architect, not a soldier, after all--Eremiel would _never_  serve the creature that had slain Raphael. Allowing him to find and destroy her would spare her that grief, that shame.

But Raphael had given her one last order before he died--protect the Sefer Raziel. She couldn't do that if the creature Castiel found her. Because he wouldn't destroy her. He would _break_  her.

She was a _good_  angel. She would not allow that to happen.

And protecting it--protecting it was no longer a simple question of keeping it close and keeping her head down. She had options; she could go deeper, build stronger, tighter wards and plug herself in. It would be a challenge to screen both herself and the pages from the creature's likely-enhanced senses, but she could do it.

But if she locked herself away, she would never know when it was safe to emerge. Raphael was...he was gone, but Michael was merely imprisoned, and Gabriel only banished. The creature's rampage couldn't last forever, and at least one of the other Archangels would be waiting when he was done.

The problem was, the wards she needed, the ones she'd half-designed already, the ones that would be both subtle and strong enough...they would need a tremendous and, more importantly, _continuous_  power source. If she were bound inside them, her Grace could do it, of course, but she had determined already that that was ill-advised. And if she stayed outside, but close enough to power her spell that way, she couldn't ward herself safely. The creature would find her, she would be forced to give him the book, and it would all be for nothing.

_Protect it. By any means necessary._

Eremiel shivered. There as really only one way to do it--a trick stolen from a traitor, a heinous transgression, doing something horribly, unmistakably _wrong._

Her Grace could stay within and power the wards.

And she could remain outside them.

She could leap--and Fall.

No. No, she couldn't do that, she could never--she was a good angel, she was _good,_  she was--

_By any means necessary._

She was a good angel. And she had her orders.

Unlike her sister, she already had a body, so she could retain her conscious mind and memories. And, in truth, she was likely safer as an anonymous human for the moment. It wasn't precisely fair to her vessel, of course, but Eremiel had her orders.

As quickly as she could, before she could change her mind, she began laying groundwork. She buried the pages, and built the physical aspects of the wards around the hole. Concealment, protection, peace and prosperity, and gentle, ordinary weather--security against every danger, natural, accidental, or deliberate, that Eremiel could imagine. The next spell, when activated, would finish sealing the earth around the pages and her Grace, and keep the latter channeled exclusively into the wards, limiting the probability of spontaneous flora and fauna. She then added one final spell, buried deep, to allow for deactivation when it was safe to retrieve the pages.

If it ever was.

And now came the hard part.

_I'm so sorry, but it's better for both of us this way._  Eremiel took a deep breath, and severed the connection between her vessel's soul and their shared body, casting the girl up to Heaven. Now she had to act quickly and finish what she started--the soul flying off like that may well have drawn more attention than she could afford.

She gripped her blade tight, took a deep, shaky breath, and cut out her Grace.

To say it was painful would diminish the experience. Even excruciating was too mild a word.

Eremiel cast her blade and her Grace into the hole with Raziel's pages, then, bloody, weeping, and altogether human, she dragged herself as far away as she could before she blacked out.


	20. Part 7, Coda: Faerie

**Coda**

_Faerie_

 

 

Luckily, Gabriel was taking an opportunity to pause a few seconds and get his bearings when he felt it.

Raphael was dead.

It was like being struck by lightning, or a freight train. It was worse, a thousand _thousand_  times worse, than locking Michael and Lucifer away. Because they were still _there._

Raphael was _gone,_  completely--no longer existing in _any_  dimension.

Even with the crap communication between Faerie and the rest of the universe cushioning the blow, Gabriel whited out for a few seconds, his senses overwhelmed by his brother's passing.

When he came back to himself, he was on his knees, in the dust, shaking. "No. No, nononono this can't be real this can't be happening..."

Gabriel reached out, groping blindly for his brother and found nothing. Not even static.

He made a faint noise in the back of his throat, something like a whimper. "Why didn't you _listen?_  I could have stopped this, I could have saved you, I could have...I could have..."

But he hadn't. He hadn't stopped anything. And Castiel had gone _nuts,_  killed Balthazar, and broken the world, and Raphael was...

_I should never have come home._

It never ended. It never got better. And it never would.

With a supreme effort of will, Gabriel dragged himself to his feet. One task at a time. He had to get out of here--wherever he went, whatever he did, after that...

He had to get out.

Focusing on that helped him reorient himself, and get moving again.

When the rest of his siblings started dying en masse, he shut it out as best he could. He couldn't face it, not now. He had to get _out._

_One foot in front of the other._

Closing his mind to the screaming, Gabriel moved on.

 

_**End Part 7** _

 

 

_**Fin** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, much like the season it's based around, Arc 2 ends on a somewhat unsettling note. I do have Arc 3 plotted, and I hope to have it written/ready to start posting by the end of March, but we'll see how that goes. Arc 3 will see Hermes return, a more active Crowley and Judas, and, of course, Leviathan. Thank you all so much for sticking with me this long, and I hope to see you in Arc 3.


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